Orihime's Fetish
by the infamou5 c0pyc4t
Summary: Orihime's crush on Ichigo takes a strange turn and reveals something about her own likes that she never knew existed. MA
1. Chapter 1

**Orihime's Fetish**

Inoue Orihime: the polite, athletic, surprisingly intelligent for all her absurdity, buxom girl of Karakura High School. When it came to desirability, she was without peer amongst the boys, and even some of the girls stole away from Tatsuki to catch a glance at her beauty. She was always eager to please and expected nothing in return.

She hummed a little made-up tune as she sauntered down the halls of her school, ignorant to the groups of boys mumbling about her when she passed, secretly taking snapshots of her with their cell phones. Even the merest image of her shoulder and flowing hair had them weak in the knees and falling over each other. On she strolled, ready to meet with Tatsuki and Ichigo for an afterschool study-session. It was Tatsuki's persistent idea since Ichigo was falling behind in grades, and Orihime eagerly volunteered to be a part of bolstering his concentration; she _was_ one of the top three female students of her class, after all.

Stepping out of the school establishment, she eagerly looked about for her two good friends. She spotted both loitering in the shade of the storage room, conversing civilly for a change. Waving her hand over her head, Orihime ran over while calling out to them. "Sorry I'm late," she cheerfully said. "I was busy looking up words in the dictionary." She suddenly looked displeased as she came to stand right in front of Tatsuki and Ichigo. "I can't come up with any words that rhyme with 'hippopotamus'. That's bad of them!"

Ichigo arched an eyebrow at this sudden declaration. "Bad of whom? And why?"

Holding up a finger and giving her 'lecture' face, Orihime said, "The people who gave it the name! They should've given it a name that is easier to rhyme with!" When asked by an exasperated Tatsuki why it mattered, she responded by saying that she needed it for the song she was singing in her head all day – a song about chocolate, bean paste, a various aquatic mammals.

"There, there, Orihime," Tatsuki soothed while patting the exuberant girl's head like a child. "You have plenty of time to think of rhyming 'hippopotamus' and coming up with more crazy songs, but right now, we have some studying to do." The friendliness of her eyes shifted to annoyance a bit too quickly for Ichigo's tastes. "Because _Ichigo_ hasn't picked up the slack for his school duties." When he opened his mouth obviously to counter with an excuse, she held up her hand and warned him not to use his work as an excuse. "You're working for a single mom, and you don't even show up every day. Don't blame it on your boss."

Ichigo sulked a little, looking off to the side and rubbing the back of his neck. It wasn't like he planned to hide behind Ikumi and her overbearing schedule.

"I~chi~go!" The trio perked up to stare over at the cloud of dust trailing after Keigo dashing at full speed to his best friend. "Time~for~the~ARCADE~!" Flinging himself into the air, he resembled a hawk diving in for a kill; he came up short when Tatsuki surprisingly intercepted with her lifted foot, demonstrating the flexibility she had acquired through years of physical training. He crumbled in a heap, trying to find his inverted face.

As if his longtime friend was not writhing on the ground, Mizuiro sauntered up casually after sending a text to one of his many female friends; following him was the silent giant, Chad. Setting the phone away, he smiled friendlily at Orihime and Tatsuki, being courteous by addressing them first. "Hello, Inoue-san, Arisawa-san. Heading to the dojo?" Lately, he acted like he was utterly suave and was adorable to all women. Tatsuki could admit that he had that baby-face that most women found cute – in a pitiful way – but she had decided before that his attitude was pesky and annoyingly nonchalant.

"Not today," Orihime chimed in, leaning forward with her hands clasped behind her; below her, Keigo's eyes shamelessly ogled her bountiful chest with a pleased smile. "Tatsuki-chan and I are tutoring Kurosaki-kun. He's been falling behind in his grades, and Tatsuki-chan wants to help him."

"Me!" Keigo suddenly proclaimed, leaping up into the air with a raised hand and a joyous expression on his face. "I want help too! Arisawa, you help Ichigo~! Inoue-san can teach me, teach me late into the night…!" Again, he was put to the ground by Tatsuki, this time with a downward swing of her fist. With a bruise on his cheek, he stayed stunned on the floor with tears running down his face.

Rubbing her knuckles with the affection of petting a loyal canine, Tatsuki scowled at the felled pervert. "Idiot, your grades have always been low," she pointed out, flicking back a tassel of hair. "You've never cared before, and you never will. You can be satisfied with scraping by with the bare-minimum, but Ichigo is making an effort to get his grades back up." The truth, of course, was that she was forcing him into this study session.

Keigo moaned when he rolled over onto his back. Hamming up his condition, he acted as though he was living his final moments. His half-lidded eyes eased over to Ichigo; he didn't show much care for the way Tatsuki had pummeled him earlier. "Ich… Ichigo," he breathed. "If you wish to better yourself…" He reached into his pocket to withdraw the 'Study' headband meant to brand the wearer as a nerd. "Please, take this in remembrance of me."

The sash passed from his hand to Ichigo's. The latter eyed the novelty before idly tossing it behind him, all the while wondering how long Keigo planned to recycle that gag. Ignoring Keigo, he looked to Mizuiro. "Sorry, I know we planned to go to the arcade today," he began, "but, to be honest, Tatsuki's got the right idea; I have to get my grades up, or I'm going to have to rely on my dad to get a clinic job." He looked like he would shudder from the thought of asking his dad for help composing his future. He then grinned at Chad. "Some other time, right, Chad? I'll get my boss to let me have another day off soon." And if she didn't permit it, he'd just ditch again; there were those few, glorious times when she never actually found him to reel him back into work.

"Don't worry," Chad replied in his deep voice. He gave the corny 'thumbs-up' that made Ichigo cringe while forcing his smile to remain. "Next time, Ichigo." His gesture was mirrored by his orange-haired friend, though it seemed painful to do. Behind him, Ichigo heard Tatsuki tease him for their shared corniness.

After having Chad heft the near-unconscious Keigo over his shoulder, Mizuiro smiled again at the study-trio. "Well, study hard, you three. Ichigo, if you finish early, we'll still be at the arcade." With a small wave, he and the other two friends sauntered off for a nice, relaxing day of goofing off.

Ichigo could not help staring enviously after Chad. How skilled the giant was to juggle work and school and maintain a high grade in class while still having ample time to spend with friends. Well, somehow, Chad seemed distant; strange that, even though his eyes were usually veiled by his unkempt hair, Ichigo had always been able to tell when Chad was looking at him or not. It did not feel like he was staring at him lately…

Tatsuki's knuckles knocked the back of Ichigo's head. "Hey, Ichigo! Are you ready to study, or are you just going to stare off into space all day? C'mon, we'll go to my house. Is that alright with you, Orihime?"

Orihime nodded joyfully with a consenting sound from her throat. Clasping the handle of her schoolbag with both hands, she secretly glanced over at Ichigo. He seemed less than thrilled to be involved in an after-school study group, but that was just him. She could understand; between school and work with an overzealous boss, he hardly had time for himself and friends. Orihime felt a bit remorseful; poor Yuzu-chan and Karin-chan didn't get to spend as much time with their beloved big brother as much anymore.

The trio of students finally set out for Tatsuki's home. Hers was closest and the most familiar; also, even though her parents weren't home, at least they were over-eccentric like Ichigo's father and they wouldn't have to worry about Yuzu curiously pressing her ear against the door to listen for any juicy conversations that would lead her to believe she would be getting a new 'sister' after Ichigo graduated.

Orihime discreetly fawned over walking so close to Ichigo. In her own, airheaded mind, she twisted reality and believed that this was a study date between her and him alone. She envisioned sitting with him, alone in her room sharing the same textbook because he had forgotten his at him. Had it been on purpose? Of course, Orihime had been more than willing to share with him. They were both lying flat on their bellies while poring over the material; it was a bit uncomfortable for her ample chest, but she hardly noticed while becoming intoxicated by the heavenly scent of Ichigo – a fixation Tatsuki had said was creepy more times than she could count. When light was waning, Orihime brought over a lamp that gave the room a romantic glow; Ichigo's eyes shimmered when he smiled and softly thanked her. His voice, so suave and smooth, gave her goose-bumps. Just when she settled back down next to him, his hand slid over hers to entwine their fingers. When she shyly looked at him, he whispered her name and leaned far-too closely towards her lips. She whimpered, helpless under his advance, and then, as if hypnotized, she shut her eyes and awaited their long-overdue kiss.

"Oh! Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime squealed, swinging from left to right, her long hair twirling with the motions. In the middle of the sidewalk, she made a spectacle of herself. Several paces ahead of her, Ichigo and Tatsuki came to a pause and looked back at her. As Orihime continued to gush and earn strange glances from passersby and Ichigo, Tatsuki walked over to her deluded friend and bring her back to _this_ plane from her fantasy world.

Grasping Orihime's shoulders to cease her giddy flailing, waiting until their eyes locked, Tatsuki sighed. "Orihime, you shouldn't space out like that," she lectured her childish friend. She leaned in close and cupped a hand at the side of her mouth to emphasize her whisper. "Ichigo is staring at you."

This revelation made Orihime's motions seize in an instant. Her gray eyes darted over to the orange-haired boy watching her, awkwardly gestating and rubbing the back of his head. He broke eye contact to stare at some rubbish at the curb of the street. That she squealed his name with such jubilation out of nowhere was a bit strange, and even she could admit that. Forcing her embarrassed and crimsoned face to smile, she giggled nervously and cocked her head to one side. "Um, I was just thinking… um…" Her eyes darted from left to right while conceiving some sort of lie. "A-after studying, you and I could…" She tightened as if she would be drawn into herself. Much to Tatsuki's pleasant surprise, she said shakily, "You and I could get some food." The cute nervousness gave way to hysteric rambling. "Or I could make you dinner! I… I think I have some leftover tofu and raspberry jam."

Ichigo felt his stomach clutch at the thought of one of Orihime's experimental blends she tried to pass off as an appropriate meal. Still, he wasn't about to shoot down a good friend's offer. "Uh, thanks, Inoue. I'll check and see if I can; Yuzu gets pretty upset when I don't come home for dinner." He ended with a slight chuckle.

A disappointing response, for Orihime knew how much Ichigo cared about his little sisters and hated to disappoint them. Still, she refused to lose her smile. She should still be satisfied with an evening spent with Ichigo and her best friend, Tatsuki – but mostly Ichigo. Keeping her bubbly disposition as to not let on how she felt about Ichigo, she took giddy, swaying steps to head the group and urged them to continue onward to Tatsuki's home.

When they continued walking again, Orihime did not have any more pauses followed by elated exclamations that caused doubt to her mental state of mind. Ichigo moseyed onward several paces behind the two girls, watching as they exchanged banter, though he did not miss the secretive glances Orihime stole every now and then. If he was not so repressed when it came to matters of the opposite sex's feelings and mannerisms, he would've been able to detect the modest blush on her face. Maybe if he had his shinigami powers again and Orihime also obtained a zanpakutou and the two engaged in combat, Ichigo would be able to read her heart then. Unfortunately, a woman's heart was far more complicated to find out without the aid of clashing blades and a keen insight to the soul.

As Tatsuki had promised, when they came to her home, it was vacant of her parents. After removing their shoes at the door, Tatsuki briskly led her guests up to her room where she left them while she went to fetch some refreshments. Ichigo casually lounged on Tatsuki's bed, comfortable because he had visited since childhood; Orihime, on the other hand, stood like a fidgeting statue at the end of the room, her back to the window. He had thought that she would feel even more at ease, for she spent time with Tatsuki even more frequently than him. For her, she was just nervous about being alone in the same room with her beloved Ichigo. Sure, she had been alone with him two times before – only one of those times was when he consciously invited her in to share some bread – it was still so exciting. Their small banter with each other was kept on the simple subject of school, but Orihime was kept enthralled up until Tatsuki returned with a tray of three steaming cups of tea and some of the leftover bread rolls Orihime delivered to her on a daily basis.

Orihime took one of the rolls and broke it in half. An inch from taking a bite, she glowered at Tatsuki. "Tatsuki-chan, I thought you said you liked the bread." She chomped on a mouthful and chewed. "Why do you have so many leftovers?"

"You always give too much," came Tatsuki's stern reply. She had a loaf ready in one hand, but chose to sip on her tea first. When the beverage left her lips, she added, "I can't finish it all in one night."

Ichigo offered a modest smirk, for he was the same. Since becoming employed by the bakery, Orihime generously gave the scraps of her work to her friends – more than _any_ of them could eat – though it would seem more appropriate for her to keep it all, as her appetite was practically insatiable. With all the donated bread hoarded to herself, she could probably finish all of it in one sitting with her vast imagination of food combinations.

Halfway through the meal, after finishing their verbal exchange, Tatsuki proposed that they get down to business, taking out her textbook and turning to the section that Ichigo needed to study. Ichigo felt a little infantile for having to be schooled by classmates; Ichigo was discontented to have to rely on Tatsuki, for she was one to hold it over his head. Even now, she would tease him about the days they had shared in the dojo as kids. It was bad enough that she let the fact that she was a karate instructor go to her head; now she was acting like a teacher when telling Ichigo which page to turn to and start reading. His mouth tightened from the embarrassment of taking her orders like a student of hers, but nonetheless, he did as was instructed. When she started making highlights of what he read and acted too much like a paid teacher, Ichigo griped about her methods, telling her that he was not one of the children in her dojo.

Snapping back at him, Tatsuki said, "I wouldn't even have to be doing this if you could keep your grades up." A taunting smirk crossed her lips. "Just be glad I'm not having you call me 'Sensei' during this study time."

Ichigo rolled his eyes at her arrogance. Outside of their small quarrel, Orihime wondered if she should try to lessen Tatsuki's aggressive attitude towards Ichigo. "Uh, Tatsuki-chan, I…" She was cut off by her phone's ringtone. ' _It's alright~_ ' the cell phone chirped over and over until Orihime finally fished it out of her bag. Ichigo was mildly surprised that her phone was a sub sandwich, but for someone who obsessed over food like her, it just made sense. "Hello~!" she cheerfully answered the phone without checking the caller id. She suddenly perked up, abruptly blurting out the name of her boss. "I have to come to work?" The perky tone of her voice faltered with disappointment. Apparently, there was a shortage of workers during a surprisingly busy day. Unfortunately, Orihime wasn't one to say no unless it was absolutely necessary. With a reluctant agreement, she closed her goofy cellular phone. She looked at Ichigo and Tatsuki as though she was a scolded puppy. "I have to go to work."

"Orihime," Tatsuki sighed with a shake of her head. She tilted her head and raised a disapproving eyebrow. "I thought today was your day off. You could've said no. You've been working nonstop for two weeks now!"

"But they need me," Orihime protested, trying to convince herself that there was no other way to put off her job to remain with Ichigo and Tatsuki. She put her belongings in her schoolbag before standing up. She turned to Ichigo and bowed apologetically. "Sorry for not staying to help, Kurosaki-kun!"

Ichigo waved his hand to dismiss her regret. "No, don't worry about it, Inoue. There's always next time." He was glad to bring a smile to her face, but she was still reluctant to leave so soon. She hadn't been able to help him at all. Awkwardly, she walked out of the room, but Tatsuki got up swiftly to see her out.

After a minute or two of saying goodbye, Tatsuki returned to her bedroom where Ichigo waited. There was a moment of silence before she exhaled heavily and turned her head to one side while tugging on her school uniform's tie, groaning softly. The school uniform was so suffocating when worn all day. "I'm going to change before we continue." She pointed accusingly at Ichigo. "Don't think we're stopping just because Orihime left."

"I didn't," he grumbled in reply. He dropped his head a little to rub the back of his neck. He wished he had some clothes to change into from his school uniform, but it wasn't too much of a bother. Lazily, he opened his eyes and watched as she took a plain white t-shirt from her drawer along with a pair of blue boxer shorts. A part of him wanted to ask – jokingly or otherwise – if she had some comfortable clothes that would fit him; she had a balanced set of girls' and boys' clothes. He decided not to ask.

"Oi, turn around, Ichigo!" she snapped at him, pointing at the wall she wanted him to face as she undressed. He rolled his eyes and obeyed, mumbling something about how she could've waited or changed in a different room. She was a bit too comfortable sometimes, even with men, or maybe just Ichigo; he was trustworthy enough, though he had been known to be guiltily curious given certain girls, like Rangiku; luckily, he didn't try to ogle Orihime, even when the ditz was set up in a position that would make someone like Keigo or Kon suffer a massive eruption of blood from their nostrils.

Of course, Tatsuki wasn't lacking in the looks department if she ever chose to flaunt it. With a body well-toned and flexible, and a bust that was generous but not exaggerated underneath her layers of clothes, she would have men taking many more double takes when she walked by if she dressed a bit more flatteringly; select girls in the girls' locker room were quite fortunate to share such intimate space with her.

"Are you done?" Ichigo groaned out, bored with the color of the wall he was forced to face. When Tatsuki did not answer right away, he turned his head slightly to see if she was even still there. She was still there, and luckily had already descended the top over her chest; he was just in time, however, to see her tight stomach before the white shirt came down.

"I didn't tell you to turn around," she snapped, though she would've been much angrier if he had caught a glimpse of anything private. Pushing her long hair out from beneath her t-shirt, she strolled over and sat down on the bed with Ichigo. A reasonable space separated them, but Ichigo couldn't help feeling a bit crowded with her so casually dressed. Not noticing or not caring how Ichigo tried to pointedly look anywhere but the area where her high shorts cut off to expose her lower thighs, she hefted one of the textbooks onto her lap.

Sunlight had become scarce, slowly being replaced by twilight, so the lamp had to provide proper illumination. Just where had the time slipped to, Ichigo thought as he leaned over to stare at the section Tatsuki was lecturing him on. When had they gotten so close, he wondered when he noticed that there was hardly an inch keeping their legs from touching.

"Oi, Ichigo! Are you paying attention?!" barked Tatsuki, finally calling Ichigo on not having his attention on the textbook. When he snapped his head up, eyes blinking once, he found his collar in her tight fist. "I'm not going to do this whole tutoring thing if _you_ aren't going to pay attention!" To emphasize her frustration, she shook him.

"I _am_ listening! Cut it out!" Ichigo exclaimed while trying to pry her hand from his shirt. He'd forgotten how strong she really was.

Either she was being playful or wanted to recall the times she pummeled him in the dojo and made him cry when they were kids; Ichigo found himself thrown to the floor and pinned there with Tatsuki's weight on top of him. Her hands held his wrists above his head, keeping him from escaping, despite how he wiggled underneath her. A tiger-like smirk crossed over her face. "Heh, you may be a shinigami, Ichigo, but I can _still_ beat you in a fight! Looks like nothing's changed since we were kids."

Ichigo snorted softly and turned away from her. "I thought we were supposed to be studying," he grumbled, a trace of red crossing his cheeks when he became conscious of the feel of her lying across him. How could he just be expected to ignore her straddling his waist, or the mounds squashing against his chest? "Now get off." He tried to play it casual when he shoved weakly against her, but that just caused her groin to rock against his when she refused to budge. Moving, he decided, was not the wisest thing to do. His expression twitched when he felt the natural stirrings in his loins when her crotch settled firmly against him. All at once, his mouth felt wet yet dry, making it hard to swallow; it felt like a lump in his throat that just wouldn't go down.

The stress apparent on his face did not go overlooked. Arching a slender eyebrow, Tatsuki asked, "What's wrong with you, Ichigo?" Surely he wouldn't be so distraught from being overwhelmed by her. There wasn't a boy in school who stood on par with her in combat, though Chad was a contender with his impassive size. The hold on his wrists lessened as she put more of her weight in her hips. Only when Ichigo grunted harshly and tried to pull away did she finally notice the stiff object nestled against the back of her thigh. "What the…?!" Much more frantic than Ichigo had seen her in a long time, she leapt off of him and stumbled away; the sudden movement caused her unbound chest to sway a little underneath her t-shirt, which did not go unnoticed to Ichigo's eye, though he wished he didn't take notice since it wouldn't help with the growing problem in his pants.

He sat up, but stayed on the floor, doing his best to look anywhere but his friend who he should not be looking at in such a way. They'd known each other since childhood, and not once had he stared at her with a trace of lust. Now, all on accident, she had contact with his erection.

When over the initial shock of it, Tatsuki barely stifled a snicker. She knew the situation was awkward and that laughing would not help Ichigo's already-embarrassed disposition, but there was something comical about tough-guy Ichigo struggling with boy problems. "Is something wrong?" she couldn't help teasing.

Pursing his lips and turning a deeper shade of crimson, Ichigo tensed. "Nothing," he replied, though the irritating throb in his ever-tightening pants told otherwise. He tried not to think about it in hopes that the swelling would go down, but it seemed unlikely. In no time at all, his trousers were packed with a full mast.

Humor gone, Tatsuki sighed heavily and placed her fists on her hips, turning her head away from her shamed friend. "I can't believe this," she griped. Was that a hint of a blush on her cheeks? Ichigo didn't take his eyes from the floor to double-check. A hand came up and idly scratched the back of her head to try to distract herself. "We haven't even covered _anything_ , and you already pop a boner."

Did she have to be so crass? Ichigo sulked and swallowed hard.

"Well…" She gestated, pursing her lips and putting on her 'tough girl' guise. "I guess it can't be helped. You're a guy, and I'm a woman; you can't help yourself." Wasn't _she_ the modest one, Ichigo sarcastically brooded while frowning up at her. Trying to get beyond this awkwardness, she plopped down on the bed, her bosom once again influenced by the sudden motion; it did not go unnoticed by Ichigo's gaze this time either, which caused the uncomfortable rod to thump in appreciation for the sight. "We might as well get _something_ done tonight. So c'mon, Ichigo!" He had enough time collecting himself on the floor.

Clearing his throat, he made a small effort to stand up to test and see if he should; he didn't get far before dropping back down and pulling his legs up. "I… don't think I should," he quietly admitted. It was hard trying to keep his voice from faltering in such an atmosphere.

Tatsuki tightened her lips when her eyes stole a glance at his crotch to see just what the fuss was about, and then she went back to looking at her book. She felt more flushed than before. There Ichigo was, huddled on her bedroom floor, suffering a hard-on that _she_ unconsciously provoked. She should share most of the blame, as Ichigo was in no mood to roughhouse, but she stood by the belief that he should have better control of himself.

Dammit, was there a draft? Tatsuki suddenly shivered as if feeling a chill. There was no reason for her to shudder; the windows were closed, and with the body heat collected behind closed doors, the room was of a comfortable – if not a little overly-warm – temperature. An arm carefully crossed over her chest, the non-existent draft causing a tightening tingle to the tips of her breasts. Two distinctive nubs were hidden behind her arm, and maybe, she found herself considering, wearing a bra underneath her t-shirt would've been a bit more tactful. It was just a draft, she continued to tell herself, even though she was starting to feel unusually warm, like the beginnings of a fever that only heightened her sense of touch and made her feel a tiny bit dizzy.

A shower would clear her right up, but _after_ Ichigo left, she decided. Last thing she needed to worry about now was him peeking in on her, though she knew him to be more admirable than stooping to the level of Keigo. For now, anyway, she'd try to study with him. She cautiously slipped down from the bed to settle next to Ichigo; he pulled away to avoid a brush against her in a way that would please only a select part of him. Of course, her immodest choice of dressing was more than enough for _that_ part to enjoy. Even so, he would try his best to work along with Tatsuki.

"Hopefully some studying won't egg you on," Tatsuki grumbled, spreading the open book between them. Ichigo scoffed slightly at her continued jest of his condition, but he could hardly rebuke her. She couldn't help glancing at him, their eyes meeting for the first time since the tension began. After a moment of silence, she asked with fortified disgust, "Is it down yet?"

Ichigo fidgeted uncomfortably. Guess not…

There was that rush of heat again. Tatsuki felt her entire being start to tingle again, her already-stiff nipples now aching for attention. Masturbation wasn't new territory for her, but now was hardly the time to consider it. The apex of her thighs received heavy doses of the excited sensation, flowering with her feminine nectar slickening her passage. Like Ichigo, she fidgeted, pressing her thighs together before glancing at him again.

Her friend was rather handsome, though his perpetual scowl left some tenderness to be desired. Luckily, she was one who saw through his 'scary' features and knew that he was just a boy of compassion, modesty, and friendship. And he had a body she respected; with her strength, she wouldn't settle for someone out of shape. She blinked suddenly with the realization that she was thinking about Ichigo more intimately than just a friend. Well, they had known each other for so long, remained close friends all that time; it was shocking that these sorts of feelings _hadn't_ happened before.

"Tatsuki?"

She perked up from her ponderings just in time to notice that she had unconsciously scooted closer to Ichigo, their sides pressing snugly together. He could try to hide it, but it was pointless with how close they were; just an idle glance down, and the lamp's defining light revealed to Tatsuki's wandering eye the shape of his firm sex. Jeez, couldn't she control herself?! She mentally reprimanded herself for staring a second time. A voice within reminded her that they _were_ boy and girl; the desire to explore the opposite was nothing if not natural.

And why not?! They were practically best friends! Something like a little observation wasn't going to spoil their friendship!

Ichigo flinched when the textbook was suddenly slammed shut. A nervous sweat broke out over his forehead. Was Tatsuki beyond frustrated, ready to kick him out for seeming like some kind of pervert? With eyes snootily closed, Tatsuki laid the book to the side. "You're hopeless, Ichigo," she grumbled. Her brown eyes opened to peer at him, noticing how flustered he looked. It reminded her of his childhood days before she would deck him. "There's no helping it, is there?"

"Wh-what?" He somehow got a bad – or unnerving – vibe from her tone.

"Well, I doubt you can concentrate like _that_." She gestured to his groin more nonchalantly than he believed she should. Both of his hands clapped over it to hide it from her sight. A pointless attempt, as she had already seen the outline several times now. "So we'll just have to wait and do something else."

"Something else?" he parroted before shivering. "Like… what?"

Red in the face at the prospect of answering truthfully what she had in mind, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt again. "You're the _guy!_ " she pointed out, relying on his hormones to kick in and blurt out what she knew they both wanted, whether or not Ichigo would rather deny his feelings. His cluelessness was so absolutely annoying at this point, yet she could feel her core hot with need for him. Since when did he seem so desirable to him?

Ichigo – though he did not want to think this way – could not say he felt any differently. He greatly admired her for her determination and strength, though she could be overbearing at times. And in a tomboyish way, she was easily considered cute. And what most didn't realize – including himself up until a few minutes ago – she was actually stacked with c-cup breasts! Of course, Ichigo couldn't measure exactly what size bra she wore, but she definitely was more voluptuous than she let on. The lack of support was what revealed this to him; well, the ampleness of her bosom _as well_ as the two nubs pushing up against the loose fabric of her t-shirt.

Was it her? Or had it been him? Tatsuki couldn't recall exactly how it happened; all she knew was that she and Ichigo were sharing their first clumsy kiss. Well, even if she hadn't been the one to initiate it – as she hoped that she had – she wasn't about to lose to shyness. Boldly, she brought herself onto Ichigo's lap, hearing him grunt a protest into her mouth that she thoughtlessly disregarded.

Ah~, their first kiss. Aside from its abruptness, it was quite how she envisioned: breathtaking, heart-pounding, and all the while, she was in control. Ichigo could barely find the sense to do anything aside from steady her by placing his hands on her waist. She held either side of his face, unwilling to let him go until _she_ was ready. She could feel him hard against her, albeit awkwardly angled and stuck to one side; likewise, he could feel her own arousal, hot and damp even through the layers of his clothes.

They came apart after what seemed like an eternity, gasping deeply while gazing into each other's eyes. Ichigo was trying desperately to work things out in his head. He shouldn't be giving into such perverted impulse, but Tatsuki wasn't giving him a say in the matter. And her groin pressing firmly down on his wasn't about to give him the willpower to throw her off of him. With a groan deep in his throat, he rocked his hips against hers. Maybe he should adjust himself before his erection snapped…

As if knowing his plight and wanting to make it worse, Tatsuki sat back, pressing more of her weight against his bent cock. She was smiling rather confidently while he was still mystified. Her hands held onto his broad shoulders as she leaned back slightly. He swallowed roughly. He looked like he wanted to do so much, but hadn't the nerve; it was all those years repressing his sexuality.

" _Hmph_. You really _are_ hopeless, Ichigo," Tatsuki admonished him. As confidently as she could, she held onto the hem of her shirt, drawing Ichigo's attention. "Looks like _I'll_ have to do it _for you_ ," she griped. All too quick, her shirt was pulled up over her head, her perfectly-shaped breasts bouncing into view for Ichigo to bear full witness. His jaw dropped and his eyes practically bugged out from their sockets when peering at those pert, dark-brown nipples; he _was_ a man, after all, and could not be swayed to turn away from the spectacle. Smirking at his awestruck reaction, Tatsuki linked her fingers behind his head. Eventually, his sight rolled up to connect with her gaze.

Ichigo felt his mouth go dry and his pulse strengthen in his neck. It was hard not to get a second glimpse of her chest. "Tatsuki, what…?" He was immediately brought into a tight, domineering kiss. Breath was sealed in his lungs when Tatsuki took possession of his lips.

~~~Two Hours Later~~~

Night had set in fully, and the streets were aglow with lamplights. Skipping happily down the path with a bag overflowing with bread, Orihime walked a direct path to Tatsuki's place. Once again working on her song involving hippopotami, she hummed a few bars and uttered a few lyrics. Hefting up the bag of bread, she giggled and coddled it. The bakery had to mass-produce loaves to keep up with the surprise rush, but they sold less than they had prepared for; voluntarily, Orihime dished out a small amount of her earnings to take a good deal of the leftovers. Hopefully, they were hungry after studying.

Orihime could no longer contain her excitement and pranced up to Tatsuki's front door. She knocked energetically and called, "Tatsuki~chan~! Kurosaki~kun~! I brought bread~!"

There was the sound of hurried footsteps scrambling down the stairs before the door cracked open for Tatsuki to peek out. Orihime smiled at her until she got a good glance. For some reason, her friend looked oddly exhausted, yet satisfied, as if having completed a terrific workout. Her hair, which was always untamed, somehow seemed even messier than usual, matted with dried perspiration. Strangely, her cheeks were tinted red; it wasn't a color Orihime usually saw on the dojo sensei aside from when she was furious with Chizuru.

"Orihime," she gasped out. "What're you doing here?"

Orihime pouted, puffing out her cheeks childishly. "Tatsuki-chan, don't be mean. I came back to study with Kurosaki-kun." Her face brightened at the mere mention of his name, and she presented the bread that would be shared between the three of them. "I brought food! We can all stay up late, and tell ghost stories, and eat!" It seemed that she confused the study session for a slumber party. In her head, she could just picture herself being brought into Ichigo's arms, warmed by his blanket, suavely whispering in her ear that everything was alright when Tatsuki told one of her graphic, frightening tales.

On the other hand, Tatsuki did not seem as perky at the mention of the orange-haired shinigami, though her face did fill a bit more with color. After clearing her throat, she said cheerily with a semi-weak voice, "Uh, Ichigo actually left a while ago. He said he wanted to get some sleep. He was pretty tired after…" A trickle of sweat ran down her face, down her throat, and to the valley of her breasts. "Studying."

"Aw~. Really?" Orihime was understandably disappointed to know that he had taken his leave. And she had been so excited to spend time with him, too. It probably would've made more sense for _her_ to take care of Ichigo's study session, since Tatsuki was a bit more reluctant.

Suddenly, Orihime leaned forward, a determined look on her face as she inhaled sharply through her nose. Her eyebrows knitted together when she looked straight at a bewildered Tatsuki. "Kurosaki-kun left? But… I smell him!"

Tatsuki looked as though she had taken a surprise hit to the gut. She'd all but forgotten that Orihime had the most peculiar ability to detect Ichigo's scent. Pulling away as much as she could from Orihime's deciphering nose, she laughed weakly, saying that she was wrong. "He really did leave," she honestly told her, protesting slightly when Orihime followed the scent up to the room where they had studied. As Tatsuki had said, Ichigo was nowhere to be found, though his aroma somehow was still so pungent in the room.

"He's not here," Orihime consented sadly. Sighing, she plopped down on the bed – which had its covers suspiciously ruffled as if someone had been jumping on them – and sulked, the bag of bread she so eagerly wished to share sagging to the floor. "I was too late."

Tatsuki threw on her most consoling smile, though it wavered with anxiety. "There, there, Orihime. There's always next time. Besides, you had to work. Ichigo understands." Knowing that it would take a bit more than that to pick up Orihime's dampened spirits, she went on with a little white lie, "Ichigo waited for you to show up, but his sisters were getting worried."

It seemed to help a bit, but Orihime still sulked. Her gray eyes went over to her friend, who instantly stiffened. It almost seemed like she was hiding a very crucial fact, but Orihime would not press. Instead, she shifted emotional gears and just smiled brightly. "Well, the bread will still be fresh." She leapt to her feet excitedly. "I'll go deliver some to him right now!" She scurried to the exit, but Tatsuki frantically blocked her way, forcing her to stop. "Tatsuki-chan?"

"Uh, it's late. Would you like to spend the night, Orihime?" Tatsuki offered hastily in an effort to change topic and keep Orihime from going to Ichigo. "He's probably in bed, already. It'll be better not to bother him."

Orihime pondered it. She didn't want to disturb Ichigo if he was asleep; his boss kept him up at all hours of the night when she had her slave-driver hooks in him. It'd be a shame if he collapsed from exhaustion while on the job. What if he got fired or hurt from it? He could suddenly pass out while carrying a girder at a construction site, and then the entire frame of the skyscraper could collapse and paralyze him forever underneath it all! He'd have to sue the Unagiya Shop for medical expenses, and Ikumi wasn't an exceptionally wealthy woman.

Folding her arms underneath her bust, Orihime gave a resolved nod. "You're right, Tatsuki-chan. I wouldn't want Kurosaki-kun paralyzed, or Unagiya-san and Kaoru-chan to lose all their money in the settlement."

Tatsuki pursed her lips, wondering if she should dare to ask what her buxom friend was imagining. Instead, she decided to just play along, patting Orihime on the head like a child that had done good. "I'm glad that you were thinking of them," Tatsuki mumbled with a slightly quirked smile.

Beaming, Orihime hummed her joy from being praised. After Tatsuki finished coddling her, she perked up a little. "If I'm going to spend the night, shouldn't I go home to get my pajamas?"

"It's alright. I should have a shirt that might fit you." Walking over to her dresser, Tatsuki sifted through her nightclothes. She had a whole collection of loose-fitting clothes, but… Well, Orihime was much more _filled-out_ than her. "Maybe this will do," she murmured when she plucked out a white t-shirt with the kanji for 'victory' printed in red on the front, a souvenir that Ryou had picked out for her during one of her track meets; the choice of size concerned Tatsuki at first, but it was a comfortable enough dressing for bed. When she turned around to her guest, she fumed, for Orihime had already unbuttoned her top and was slipping out of it. "What're you doing?!"

Orihime looked at her with those doe eyes, her body bending forward slightly to ease her school uniform off. Gravity put her bra under a great deal of stress, the snow-white cups threatening to spill their precious content. "Huh? I thought you wanted me to undress."

Tatsuki touched her temple, exhaling softly. Orihime was far too comfortable, even with her own nudity. This wasn't gym class; she shouldn't take her clothes off so easily. When she looked again, Tatsuki discovered that her friend had already let her skirt drop. Tatsuki rolled her eyes upward, muttering a "Jeez", and then passing the shirt over to Orihime. As the redhead began to tug on the nightwear, Tatsuki folded her arms. "I'd bet that you'd be just as hasty even if Ichigo were here, wouldn't you?"

Popping her head through the collar, Orihime puffed out her pink cheeks and frowned at Tatsuki. "No, I'd go out in the hallway," she said, only to be scolded when Tatsuki told her it should be the other way around. In any case, Orihime assured her that she wouldn't be so brazen as to put herself on display. "Besides, it'd be terrible if Kurosaki-kun was expelled before graduation and had to work only as a street performer." Ah~, her wild imagination at work again, making her believe that it would somehow get around school that he was a peeping-tom, which forced the school to expel him; she could hardly keep herself from giggling when she pictured Ichigo and his scowling face in a mime costume.

It took some effort, but Orihime finally pulled the nightshirt over her chest. The 'Victory!' kanji stretched across her bust, and the hem hardly was able to come down to her upper thigh, her matching-white panties flashing whenever she took a step. Tatsuki considered that it was a good thing they had no company, for with how much Orihime unwittingly showed off, it would be hard not to get a glimpse even when trying to avoid doing so. It was actually pretty incredible that the oversized t-shirt could barely fit Orihime; she really was stacked.

With a prolonged and pleased groan, Orihime stretched her arms high above her head, once again force-feeding Tatsuki an eyeful of her underwear, before going slack and dropping down on the messy covers. The dark-haired girl suddenly became flabbergasted, waving her hands in front of her. "Uh, Orihime," she blabbered in an uncharacteristic panic, "I was thinking that we could sleep in the living room." Truth was, she wanted Orihime off that bed as soon as possible. "My bed… um, I need to wash the sheets."

Curiously, Orihime cocked her head to one side while observing her friend's odd behavior. "What do you mean, Tatsuki-chan? We did laundry two days ago, and I remember that you washed your sheets." Before Tatsuki could come up with a clever lie, Orihime leaned back slightly, her palms grazing the surface of the bed until her thumb slipped into… a puddle? Perking up, she glanced at the moist area. Tatsuki did not show any concern until the soiled digit was lifted to be inspected. "What's this, Tatsuki-chan?" Orihime mumbled in fascination. The substance was a mixture of milky white and transparent fluid, far too thick to be milk. Was it mayonnaise?

Tatsuki's jaw almost dropped to the floor when she saw the child-minded girl observe the paste smeared on the pad of her thumb.

Testing the texture by rolling her index fingertip against it, Orihime found it to be quite slippery. Her sensitive nostrils picked up the strong, musky scent of the fluid, and it set something off in her, causing her belly to clench. Her inquisitive expression turned dreamy and lustful, eyes rolling up as if daydreaming. The aroma somehow reminded her of Kurosaki-kun. "It smells good," she slurred as her mouth watered. Impulsively, she brought the substance to her lips.

"Oi!" Tatsuki lunged to pull the hand back. Her face was completely red, and not just from anger. As Orihime's confused, gray orbs fell on her, she scowled and swallowed noisily. "Don't go putting anything you find in your mouth, Orihime! C'mon! Wash your hands!" Desperately, the karate master tugged Orihime to her feet and rushed her to the bathroom, keeping the stained hand far in front of her.

"But Tatsuki-chan~!" Orihime whined while struggling to keep up. Once in the restroom, Orihime was practically thrown against the sink and had the substance washed away by the running faucet. Tatsuki thoroughly rinsed the white goo off with soap before scurrying out, shouting that she was going to take care of the stains on the bed. Curious as to what had her so flustered, Orihime lazily continued to wash her hands even after every trace of the strange substance was lost down the drain.

In the room, Tatsuki fussed over the small puddle, wiping it with a hot towel, spraying it with some disinfectant, and wiping it again with the towel. That was far too close! What if Orihime hadn't been so ignorant?! What if she made an educated guess that wasn't food-related?!

Damn Ichigo, Tatsuki fumed! Hadn't he cleaned up more thoroughly than this? She was almost compelled to throw the soiled towel and bed sheets out the window and into the garbage, if only to get rid of the evidence as soon as possible. She was seconds from giving into the urge before Orihime returned, rapidly shaking out her wet hands to rid them of lingering moisture.

"Tatsuki-chan? What are you doing?" Her head was tilted cutely to one side, her adorable, innocent eyes cast on Tatsuki.

It was hard to face her now, for Tatsuki at least; she hardly had any time to really let what transpired between her and Ichigo sink in fully. "It's nothing," she said as she exhaled and looked off to the side. Slapping on the cheeriest face she could while feeling so disgruntled, she said, "How about I get some tea to go along with the bread you brought?"

Orihime would've wanted to pursue her friend's obvious discomfort, but the mention of food after a day's – or a minor fraction of it – work just was too appealing to let slide. Cheering and throwing her fists above her head, she scrambled behind Tatsuki to usher her out the door and to the kitchen.

The two friends snacked for a while; where Tatsuki nibbled, Orihime gorged. They spoke of school and work, which Tatsuki enjoyed. She told tales of how she would select her assistants by forcing them to arm-wrestle; she seemed especially proud when she spoke of how she pitched one of the larger candidates to the floor when overwhelming him in brute force. She snickered when she mentioned the looks of awe and fear on the kid students' faces after the demonstration of power.

Orihime's tales were less exciting and brutal, but she spoke with just the same enthusiasm, as her passion was usually _always_ food. She listed off the kinds of breads she sold and the sometimes-odd requests. She fawned when she mentioned a lovely cake that had been made for an old couple's anniversary. She could just imagine her and Ichigo at such an age, sharing such a cake with bean paste and mushroom toppings. A bit of spittle formed at the corner of her mouth as she considered such a treat.

After eating her fill, Tatsuki stretched her arms out above her head, admitting that the bread really hit the spot; she grumbled how she felt drained. When asked if it was because of Ichigo and studying, she immediately became defensive and insisted that it had nothing to do with that blockhead.

Tatsuki arranged a spot on the floor for them to sleep on, as she was most adamant that they not crowd on the bed together, even though they had done so since their first slumber party. Orihime did not question this choice and settled down with Tatsuki after the lights were turned off. The boxer lied on her back, staring up at the ceiling while pondering what she had done with Ichigo earlier. A blush was brought to her cheeks, and it only increased in tone when a drowsy Orihime suddenly curled up closer to her with a pleased moan behind closed lips.

"Tatsuki-chan," she sighed wistfully, nuzzling her friend's collarbone with a small smile. "You smell like Kurosaki-kun…"

~~~The Next Day~~~

"Ichigo~! You missed out at the arcade!" exclaimed Keigo, merrily skipping back and forth down the row of desks at Ichigo's side. Mizuiro and Chad stood against the window, the former texting on his new cell phone and the latter solemnly watching the hyperactive Keigo prancing about. "Not only did I beat your high score on your favorite game, but we met _girls!_ " Ichigo was forced to perk up from his daydreaming and pay attention when Keigo slammed his palms down on the surface of his desk. Pressing in close, Keigo shed tears of joy. "Did you hear what I said?! Girls!"

"Ichigo already knows girls, Asano-san," Mizuiro pointed out without looking away from his precious phone. "He's not as closed-off as you are."

Polite-speech aside, Keigo pointed at his aloof friend. "You lie! Ichigo hardly leaves his room, except to work!" He went down again to be eyelevel with Ichigo; Ichigo immediately recognized the perverted glint in his friend's eye. "Oi, speaking of which, did you put in a good word for me with Unagiya-san? I think I would be able to provide her with a pair of good hands for work."

Growling, Ichigo shoved Keigo's face away. "She wouldn't want someone like you who clowns around at work!"

Keigo slithered back onto Ichigo's desk with pouty lips. "Aw~, don't be so cold, Ichigo. Are you mad because something happened yesterday with Arisawa and Inoue-san?"

At the mention of Tatsuki, Ichigo became tightlipped and turned away, barely able to mutter a "No" as his face turned pink.

" _Ah!_ That's it, huh?!" Keigo declared triumphantly. He leapt in the air, pointing at his flustered friend. "What was it?! Did you get a good look at Inoue-san's rack?! Did you touch Arisawa's butt?! Did you _gah!_ " He should've expected punishment for his inappropriate jeering. Before he could dodge, Ichigo stood up, hefted his desk overhead, and brought it down on Keigo's skull, effectively shutting him up for – hopefully – the rest of the school day.

As Keigo hobbled aimlessly with eyes spiraling before finally giving up and falling flat on the floor, Ichigo cursed at him and took his seat. Mizuiro finished sending a text before his doe-eyes focused on Ichigo. "So what did happen, Ichigo?" he asked, mildly curious if the orange-haired teen would divulge any interesting information.

Ichigo only bowed his head slightly, irritation evident, and said, " _Tch_ … Nothing happened." Clearly, something _had_ transpired, but it was unlikely that he would share it with his friends. It must've been something big, an 'image-changer' of sorts.

"Good morning, Kurosaki-kun!" cheered Orihime as she leapt into the classroom with her hand waving overhead. Like every other day, she bounded into school with a joyful kick in her step; behind her trudged the less-enthusiastic Tatsuki. She followed her best friend up to Ichigo, but the two refused to even look in the same direction. Both were uncomfortably quiet, trying to mask their blush with toughness. After shuffling her feet, Tatsuki mumbled a greeting to Ichigo, which he returned as a nonchalant grunt.

Their indifference was suspect, as they went back further than anyone else of their group. Something was definitely up between the two of them, but Orihime was the one who felt it should be up to her to find out what. Though she had acted normally last night, she knew something was up. Her intuition told her to stick to it and find out just what was making the two so awkward around each other. Of course, before she could pursue any questioning that might have their tongues slipping useful details, the school bell rang, and she was forced to find her seat. She faced the front of the class as the teacher set up the day's lesson, but she couldn't help glancing back at Ichigo and Tatsuki.

The two continued to stare off in different directions…

~~~Lunchtime~~~

With Yuzu's homemade bento in hand, Ichigo dragged himself up the stairs to the usual hangout spot at the school roof. He pushed open the door and squinted against the harsh rays of the sun. Looking around, he found that he was the first to arrive; Keigo and Mizuiro were probably buying lunch, and Chad usually was out doing some work for the school to scrape in some extra cash. Well, this was just fine for him. He appreciated the time to think alone without Keigo trying desperately to pry.

Setting down his lunch, he sifted through and brought out a sandwich and juice box. He pulled down the wrapping and leaned over the railing, idly staring down at the masses of students during lunch break. His eyes drifted over and saw Orihime's group picnicking in the usual area in the shade of trees. The busty redhead had a feast of various condiments, pastries, and a small bowl of soup; when it came to meals, she never was modest with her food choices. Curious, though; Tatsuki wasn't present among the group of girls.

"All by yourself?"

Ichigo almost cried out in surprise from being caught distracted, his hand reflexively clenching on his juice box and wasting its contents in a spray. At once, he spun around, pressing back against the railing when setting eyes on Tatsuki. Her arms were folded casually over her chest, her attention diverting to the side when he was staring at her. She shifted her lips, and then looked at him.

Ichigo swallowed lightly and then tried to play it cool as he brought the dripping straw to his lips. "What're you doing up here?" he mumbled, slurping up what little remained in his juice box. It made him appear rather foolish, idly sucking on a straw in an empty carton.

Tatsuki growled softly at his indifference. "Are we even going to talk about it? About what _you_ did yesterday?"

At once, the juice box was thrown to the ground so that he could point accusingly at her. "What… what _I_ did?! You… _you!_ " His face went scarlet when recalling just who provoked whom.

Tatsuki smirked, and Ichigo realized that she just wanted to get him talking. Exhaling, he rubbed his head while muttering an apology. At least he hadn't changed into some pompous asshole, Tatsuki considered. She paused a moment longer before asking the question she felt was most important in these circumstances. "That… _this_ doesn't change anything between us, does it? We're still _just friends_ , right?"

Awkwardly, Ichigo scratched the back of his neck. "I guess so." Honestly, he didn't know what they were now; not enemies, but surely something more than friends. In a way that Tatsuki could consider cute, he peered at her in a childish fashion, timid and uncertain, so unlike his usual, scowling character. "It shouldn't mean anything…"

A vein throbbed at Tatsuki's temple as she scowled, simmering with offense. "What's that supposed to mean?" she growled like an agitated tiger. She rolled up a sleeve, ready to toss Ichigo off the roof if he didn't amend his statement.

"Nothing like that," he quickly blurted out, waving his hands in front of him to keep her from losing her temper. Renewed shinigami or not, he knew Tatsuki's full wrath was probably just as terrifying as Kenpachi in a frenzy. "I just meant it shouldn't change how we feel."

It was an answer Tatsuki agreed with. She didn't want to start some romantic relationship with him, at least not in school; it would be bad for both of their images. They wouldn't want to walk down the school halls, hand in hand, and hear students whispering about them behind their backs. It was too much trouble. Glad that Ichigo wasn't about to let the 'spur of the moment' of yesterday, she began to approach him. They could at least discuss the situation while picking off of his lunch. She wouldn't deny that Yuzu's homemade meals were top-notch. Wordlessly, she ripped a good portion of his sandwich off, despite how he grumbled under his breath, and ate it with a daring grin.

"Ah, I didn't think I'd find you up here, Arisawa-san." Tatsuki wheeled about to see Mizuiro wandering onto the rooftop with one of his floozies' packed lunches in his hand. He smiled in his polite way. "How interesting. I remember when you would meet up here all the time with Kuchiki-san when she was coming to school, Ichigo." His eyes closed sweetly. "Are you two being friendly?"

Both turned red at the accusation. Teasing or not, Mizuiro just hit the nail on the head with a sledgehammer. "Uh, well, Ichigo," Tatsuki nervously stammered, trying to keep her cool. She forcefully coughed into her fist. "Now that we have an understanding, I'll see you after school." Briskly and almost mechanically, she marched past Mizuiro, briefly giving him a hello and goodbye to try to keep from seeming too suspicious.

The black-haired boy looked after her, confused. " _Hm_? Arisawa-san… is acting strange," he pointed out more to himself than Ichigo, who had probably already taken notice of her peculiar behavior. Of course, he probably spoke too soon…

" _Ah_! I just remembered! I need to go return a manga I borrowed from Inoue," Ichigo blurted out in the way he usually did when horribly on edge while trying to hide a secret, making lurid arm gestures – an impulse most likely inherited from his ridiculous father. "I'll be right back!"

"What?" Mizuiro watched helplessly as his friend charged past him and down the stairs. He hadn't seen Ichigo act like that since he was trying to cover up the fact that he was a shinigami and wasn't involved with the 'transfer student', Rukia. Finally having a taste of how Keigo usually felt when being abandoned, Mizuiro let his hands drop limply, his bento threatening to drop from his loose grasp. "You forgot your lunch," he whispered to the loneliness before a sad gust of wind blew by him.

In the building, Ichigo rounded only two flights of stairs before finding Tatsuki, leaning idly against the wall as if waiting for him. The second her eyes lifted from inspecting the floor, Ichigo seized in place and stared at her, trying not to seem out of breath or panicked. "What is it?" she grumbled, and he had to assume that she was annoyed with him.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure. Did… do you really want me to come by afterschool?"

"Stupid," she immediately rebuked him, turning sharply to descend the stairs and be on her way. "I agreed to tutor you, didn't I? Come with the intention to learn. And if you think you'll be _distracted_ again… bring condoms at least."

Ichigo stood with a dumb and puzzled expression. Was she serious? He honestly couldn't tell.

~~~Elsewhere~~~

Orihime had only finished half of her sub-sandwich. Normally, she'd have downed it in the first ten minutes of lunch and been well on her way to her desserts; now, she was too distracted and hardly nibbled her meal. Her gray eyes were focused on the roof of the school, where she had seen Ichigo for the first few minutes of the break before he suddenly rushed off. And if she had seen and guessed correctly, Tatsuki had made a brief appearance, taking a bit of Ichigo's sandwich from the looks of it and heading of seconds before Ichigo did.

Just what were those two up to? She briefly toyed with the idea that they were planning a surprise birthday party for her; it would definitely be a surprise since her birthday was three months away, but she let the notion linger because it made her giddy. What if it was a mistletoe-themed party? Squealing at the thought of being caught under the mistletoe – despite it being out of season – with Ichigo, Orihime dropped her sandwich and clasped her hands on either side of her crimson face.

Mahana and Michiru turned away from their mild conversation to watch their airheaded friend squirm with excited giggles; Ryou hardly turned her eyes away from her novel. "Kurosaki-kun~," Orihime swooned while lost in her world of fantasy. "What a surprise~!" She bowed her head deeply, fidgeting and gripping at her stomach, which felt as though it had filled with butterflies. "It's not even Christmas~!"

"What is she daydreaming about now?" Ryou grumbled. It was hard to focus on the story she was reading while Orihime was unexplainably fawning over Ichigo and Christmas. "I guess, even after a year, the only thing that matures about her are her breasts."

"Did she say Kurosaki-kun?" Michiru sulked slightly at the mention of the supposed thug's name.

Ryou's eyes scanned over to the petite girl. "Don't tell me you're still afraid of him?" She casually turned the page of her book, keeping her attention now on the text. "He _was_ the one who saved you, Chizuru, and Tatsuki from that creep a while ago?"

The mention of the event seventeen months ago that she wasn't even _awake_ for made Michiru puff her cheeks out while puckering her lips like a pouting blowfish. To her, the story sounded so farfetched that she wasn't entirely convinced that it even happened, even if Tatsuki vouched for Orihime's explanation. Twiddling her index fingers awkwardly, she mumbled that it didn't change the fact that his face was still rather intimidating with its constant scowling.

"'Hime~! My Venus!"

Orihime snapped suddenly from her racing imagination when both of her breasts were scooped in two greedy clutches. So deep was she in her daydreaming, she believed for a second that Ichigo had embraced her so intimately. Of course, the truth was that Chizuru – having snuck up like a jaguar – now fondled her beloved's bosom, squeezing the voluptuous globes. "You're so beautiful when you giggle~!" She cupped Orihime's chin and turned her head so that their eyes could meet. "But," she continued in a sensuous whisper, "I'll have you writhing in pleasure when…" She was cut off when a foot came down on the back of her head, forcing her face to the ground, smothering her with grass and dirt.

"Why don't you writhe in _pain_?" Tatsuki snarled as she ground her sole against Chizuru's head. "Damn pervert!" Finally, she stepped away so that Chizuru could pick herself up, groaning pitifully. Weakly, she praised Tatsuki for her ability to provide a formidable punch-line. Rolling her eyes at Chizuru's misinterpretation of an attack, Tatsuki plopped down next to Orihime.

The buxom redhead fixed her bowtie before looking at her best friend. "Tatsuki-chan, where were you?" she mumbled with a pout. "We started lunch without you."

Smiling, Tatsuki apologized, but then pointed out that lunch had apparently gone to waste when she pointed at the dropped sandwich. Of course, a few seconds on the grass wasn't going to stop Orihime from gorging again. Tatsuki watched her, feeling a knife of guilt embed itself in her stomach. She knew of Orihime's feelings for Ichigo, yet they were sneaking around. It's not like she had Ichigo's heart, Tatsuki justified herself; the moment Orihime spoke out, Tatsuki would willingly back off and wish her friend the best of luck. Still, it filled her heart with woe that she wasn't able to confess to Orihime the issue with Ichigo…

With half a mouthful, Orihime muttered with crumbs spilling, "Is there something wrong with Kurosaki-kun?"

"What do you mean?" Tatsuki did well at seeming unconcerned with the question.

"You and Kurosaki-kun are acting strange around each other."

"It's nothing," Tatsuki immediately dismissed Orihime's statement. She munched on a rice ball that Michiru handed to her. She gracefully swallowed, acting pompous while doing so. "It's just your imagination."

"Oh…" Orihime glanced down at her sandwich. Meekly, her gray eyes turned back to Tatsuki. "Are you going to meet him afterschool again?"

The tomboy paused. "No," she answered under her breath, and then took another bite of her rice ball.

Orihime smiled and nodded, going back to enjoying her meal. Though she put on her cheery façade, within, there was steely determination. Ichigo had once told her that her intuition was one of her best qualities, and her intuition was telling her that there was more than Tatsuki was letting on. She would find out what.

Tatsuki was chipper than usual in the morning when Orihime met up with her to walk to school together. Sure, she was never gloomy, but she never walked with a constant smile on her face either. Orihime noted her behavior, but more than that was the faint, lingering scent, the one Tatsuki had the night she slept over. Had Tatsuki lied about meeting with Ichigo yesterday?

Unfortunately, she could not find the answer, and even Ichigo was difficult to read. Unlike yesterday, he was back to normal, being casual and friendly and hardly reacting to Tatsuki's presence or the mention of her name. Their conversations were mild and normal, sticking to topics of videogames and recent movies.

Orihime had the doubt that her intuition was correct in the first place in regards to their relationship until the following days. The smell of Ichigo remained on Tatsuki for five days now, and though it was not of her affair, she had overheard that Tatsuki had been tutoring Ichigo almost every day. When confronted, Tatsuki did not deny that the gatherings hadn't happened. Well, Orihime wouldn't very well find out anything through their conserved whispers and conversations; she invited herself to the next study session that took place after school, and Tatsuki and Ichigo welcomed her involvement. An uneventful gathering ended with Orihime getting her long-cherished walk home with Ichigo at her side. When they parted ways with him leaving her at her doorstep, she scurried inside to Sora's shrine to tell him of the time she shared with the boy she loved.

Oddly, the following morning, Tatsuki hadn't the glowing joy of earlier days. She wasn't unhappy, just less happy than she recently was. Curious, for even when bending in to Chizuru-status closeness, Orihime couldn't detect the smell of Ichigo that she had become fond of when standing around Tatsuki. A person of less naïveté might've been able to put the pieces together and come up with a hypothesis, but Orihime hadn't a clue.

And so, unless work interfered, she joined Tatsuki and Ichigo whenever they chose to study after school. The pattern of days when Tatsuki carried Ichigo's scent or didn't became more blatant, and Orihime still couldn't decide what was happening.

Until one day…

"Ryou-cha~n!" Orihime waved over at the track star, who was supervising the first years on their running times and forms. The no-nonsense athlete wheeled about to acknowledge her friend's approach. Orihime came jogging up to her, careful not to stumble over any of the equipment the coach had laid out. "Have you seen Tatsuki-chan? My boss said I had the day off at the last minute. I can go with her to study with Kurosaki-kun." She looked so joyful when she mentioned the boy's name, and it didn't surprise Ryou; she wasn't as dense as Michiru and Mahana.

"Didn't she tell you? She's doing a demonstration for new entries to her dojo." Ryou pointed with her thumb at the gym. "I think I saw Ichigo go with her as an assistant."

Orihime smiled brightly and hurried to catch the two before the demonstration was over. "Thank you, Ryou-chan!" she called behind her. Ryou just turned back to the panting first years and ordered them to run four more laps, and another four if their times didn't improve.

Approaching the gym, she could hear Tatsuki through the open window of the storage. She was pointing out the fundamentals of karate, her voice loud and stern. Surprisingly, the kids she was speaking to weren't too intimidated by her to shout out their excitement when she displayed some of her special moves, moves that won her many tournaments that year.

Orihime considered going in and watching her friends motivate a group of kids to join the dojo, but a better and more fun idea struck her. Why not surprise them when they were done and putting the mats away?! Giggling to herself, she decided that _that_ was the way to go! The only real effort was getting to the open window. Despite her buxom figure, she was fit enough to leap up to the small entrance with the boost of a faulty desk that had been set outside nearby to be taken away with the garbage.

"There… we… go!" With a small yelp, she popped through the window and tumbled into the cart of soccer balls and volleyball net. It wasn't enough of a clatter to rouse the attention of the in-progress assembly. Rubbing her bumped head, she whined. Too bad she couldn't have landed on a mat, but she giggled and knocked herself playfully on the head with her fist, remembering that the mats had been taken out for Tatsuki and Ichigo to use during their physical displays.

Speaking of which, it seemed like Tatsuki was drawing the congregation to a close! That left precious little time to find a secure hiding place! Already, the excited ramblings of the children departing began to fade as they left the two activists to pick up. The moment she heard the door shudder and begin to open, Orihime threw herself in the concealing spot between the two trapezoid vaulting horses, pulling the cart of volleyballs in front of her to better hide her presence. She backed into the shadow and smiled, biting her lip to keep from bursting out with excited laughter, particularly when she saw the two she awaited marching in with the folded, blue padding.

"See?" Tatsuki mused with a smile. "It wasn't as bad as you thought." She failed to hear the suppressed giggle of the girl watching them from her hiding place.

"Bad enough," grumbled Ichigo, arching his back. After letting himself be thrown to the mat several times during Tatsuki's physical demonstrations, he was a bit sore. Really, he had been more of a prop than an actual representative of the dojo, which was why he was in standard school uniform while Tatsuki was dressed in her white karategi. Glaring dully at her, he said, "Referring to you as 'Sensei' was probably the hardest thing about it."

Snarling, Tatsuki said, "Oh? You have a problem with calling me sensei?"

Ichigo nonchalantly rubbed the back of his neck. "Not really, except you're not _really_ the sensei, just the assistant."

"Oh? Are you jealous that _I_ have status at the dojo?"

"I quit the dojo," Ichigo reminded her. He haughtily stretched his arms. "It'd be hell to call you sensei and mean it." In an instant, he was toppled by a powerful throw by Tatsuki; again, both were deaf to the shocked reaction of the one spying on them.

Ichigo landed flat on his back on the padding, an imprint of his body molding into the foam. Before he could collect himself and yell at her for acting so brutishly to his teasing, she was pinning him with that feral, prideful smirk she usually flashed whenever she overpowered him.

"So it bugs you to call me sensei, huh?" she hissed in his face, the tips of their noses almost touching. The spy held her breath. She'd never seen Ichigo this close to _anyone_ before, let alone a woman. Even with Rangiku's playfulness, he always made sure to keep a respectful distance, though his eyes were hardly able to resist the magnetic-pull of her cleavage. Tatsuki pressed down forcibly on Ichigo, forcing a deep groan from his throat when she wedged a knee against his groin. Again, Orihime's jaw tightened; this time, her cheeks began to crimson. Just what was happening? "I'll make you call me sensei right now."

Orihime had to slap both hands over her mouth to muffle her shocked gasp when Tatsuki's lips sealed Ichigo's. It was a passionate kiss, a show of her dominance over him. Her teeth pulled on his lower lip, not being at all gentle, even when she drew a pained hiss from his throat. When she finally released his lip, he growled an insult at her that she really didn't mind. After all, he wasn't putting up a struggle as her lips trekked down his shirt; all the while, he knew he couldn't fight back, so who was the _real_ bitch?

The fumbling of a belt buckle reached Orihime's ears, and she had to double-check with her eyes to see if Tatsuki really was doing what she thought she was. Sure enough, the belt was unclasped in a trice, and the button and zipper of his trousers were made of short work, as well. When she pulled apart the split in his pants, Ichigo finally made a move to stop her, trying to connect his button. "Tatsuki, stop," he gasped out, his face flushed.

Pausing in her assault, she glared up at him. "What's wrong?"

"We're in the storage room," he sputtered. "What if… someone comes in?" Or was already inside, hidden and spying on them?

Tatsuki set her face in a scowl. For a moment, it seemed that she was having second thoughts, and it seemed even more likely when she moved away from him and headed for the exit. Contrarily, however, she picked up a small block and wedged it at the bottom of the sliding door. She checked to make sure that no one could force their way in, and then turned to Ichigo with a victorious smirk. She worked on her black belt, slipping it off and folding it up to be set aside. "Satisfied?"

Ichigo just pursed his lips, and Orihime – if she hadn't been so dumbfounded – would've burst out in a fit of giggles at the adorable shade of pink weakening his tough exterior. "Not really," he grumbled. Afterschool in a storage room wasn't exactly a place he was comfortable fooling around in. What if someone saw or heard them? His reputation – as well as Tatsuki's – would be ruined! Nonetheless, he did not contest when Tatsuki slipped down to him again, now anxious to finish what she had started. With her gi top unsupported from the removal of her belt, her sternum was visible between the two sides of white cloth; since it was not a serious event, Tatsuki chose not to wear properly-supportive underwear, her white bra flashing every time her arms moved. "Can't you just wait?" Ichigo suggested when he felt her fingers prodding eagerly at the hem of his pants. His question was answered with her next action.

Orihime's jaw could've dropped on the floor when Tatsuki swiftly tugged the orange-haired boy's pants and boxers down to his lower thigh, enough to completely expose his private area. Gray eyes focused on the object arching up from the orange forest at its base. A penis; _Kurosaki-kun's penis!_ It was just as glorious as she imagined it, if not more so on the nights when hormonal dreams had her tossing and turning in a sheet of her own sweat and arousal. He was large, at least compared to the diagrams in health class. A feature that she noticed was the absence of overlapping skin underneath his swollen head; his father must've had him snipped at birth…

Orihime tried to moisten her lips, but her tongue was just as dry. Her heart was pounding in her ears, almost deafening her to any other sound, though she wanted to hear every spoken word and gasping breath. She almost choked on her shock when Tatsuki closed her fingers around the semi-rigid shaft and gave it a few pumps.

"Not afraid, are you?" she snickered at him. If she had to aid him into getting a full erection, he must really be on edge. Even so, he denied it, though the constant wandering of his frantic eyes – darting to the door and open window – confessed his dread. Calling his bluff, Tatsuki took the swollen head of his cock through her lips, and that was all. She found that he was most fond of her tongue lashing against his tip, taking away traces of his pre-cum and slickening him up; of course, most men would consent to enjoying the feeling of their penis head being tended to, but having Ichigo flailing and begging with a little tongue-teasing was a most amusing sight to behold.

Orihime would have to agree. The boy she adored slammed his powerful hands down on the mat, unsuccessfully fighting down a prolonged groan as Tatsuki lapped at his cockhead. He would've looked to be in pain if not for the vigorous blush. His fingernails dug into the plastic and almost tore it. _Kurosaki-kun…_ Orihime's breath was heavy, as though she had been running for hours. Her skin felt hot, uncomfortably so. She wanted to shed her clothing to give her perspiring body some air, though she couldn't risk herself being found out, least of all while disrobing. Whimpering softly, she rubbed her thighs together as her core began to secrete her juices.

The engorged shaft popped out of Tatsuki's mouth, though her hand still supported it at the base to hold it straight up. Unlike a few moments ago, it was fully erect and hard with circulating blood, thumping in time with his heartbeat. " _Heh_ , about time," chided the dojo senpai, and then gave him a peck prior to shrugging down her slack pants and briefs. "Is it really _that_ much harder for you to get it up when we're not in my bedroom?"

How could it be so easy for _her_ , Ichigo wanted to shoot back, but his throat was clutching, and it was difficult enough to breathe without seething. No matter how much they had done it recently, it was still new to him. As experience goes, Tatsuki probably had more than him; not in physical encounters, but observation of the actual intercourse. With Isshin and Yuzu practically tracing his every breath, Ichigo hadn't the privacy to glance at magazines that Keigo shamelessly dished out to his friends. Tatsuki, on the other hand, could read and even _watch_ adult material at her leisure, thus explaining her confidence.

She straddled Ichigo's lap, and he could feel the wet heat radiating from her crotch. He swallowed hard. It was all he could do to keep from mindlessly thrusting up in a haphazard attempt to be smothered in her hot channel. How could she be in such control? She smirked and pressed the pad of her index finger against the center of his brow, causing his eyes to cross curiously at the digit. "Call me sensei, Ichigo," she jibed, "and I'll let you have what you want." Her hips ground mercilessly against the muscle lying down across Ichigo's lower stomach.

Seething in defiance of the feeling, Ichigo scowled. "Not… _ugn…!_ … going…" He could not form a single sentence with Tatsuki's hot sex rubbing against him. The moment his shaky hands rose in an attempt to grab her hips, position himself, and impale her, she grabbed him by the wrists and forced them down on either side of his head. The advantage was completely hers, for in this little spar, hands could not prove as useful as the sway of her hips.

Granted, she was not immune to the excitement, tension, or pleasure. Sweat began to roll from her brow, matting her dark hair to her skin or dripping from her chin to soak into Ichigo's shirt. Even so, she retained her snooty air. "Come on, Ichigo. Just call me sensei, and you'll have it." She rotated her hips so that Ichigo's craving cock was almost at her inviting entrance. To be even less vague and prey on the sense of hearing, she promised, "I'll let you fuck me."

Orihime's breath hitched. Her heart had never raced so fast, not even when watching Ichigo face impossible odds and be brought to the brink of death. He wouldn't break. Please… Don't break…! Kurosaki-kun!

Unfortunately, sex was a bit harder than the battlefield when it came to holding onto willpower and pride. Blood vacates the brain to have you thinking with your second head. Ichigo felt like iron shards riddled his throat, tearing the muscles and his voice box. "Fine," he rasped out, much to Tatsuki's delight and Orihime's shock. His voice trailed off, but it was still audible. "Tatsuki… sensei…" Tatsuki might've done less damage by delivering a 'Dragon Bazooka' to a materialized version of Ichigo's ego.

"That's what I thought," exhaled Tatsuki with satisfaction. It was a battle of wills, one that she wasn't too sure that she would win while stimulating her clit against Ichigo's cock. Fortunately, he was even more vulnerable. Taking a hand from his wrists to direct his rigid cock, she picked her waist up and made room for him to nuzzle and inevitably penetrate her vaginal lips. They both breathed a relieved sigh when he slowly and carefully wedged through her slippery folds. Tatsuki bucked her hips gently as she descended on his lap, showing some difficulty when trying and failing to accept the final two inches. He was pressing snugly against her cervix, and if he tried, he would puncture the narrow passage; when they tried before to get all of him compacted inside of her, Tatsuki complained that it actually hurt more than it felt good.

The moment Tatsuki began to rock her hips, carefully gliding up and down on Ichigo's lap while their moans overlapped, Orihime felt everything stop while a hot sensation boiled in her gut. It was not dissimilar to what she felt when Rukia seemed like she was getting too close to Ichigo's heart. Who knew that it would be Tatsuki of all people to claim it for herself?

Orihime trembled, having never felt like this before. It was unbearable… Her hands acted before her mind could keep up: one latched on her breast and the other crept between her legs. What was this heat? She whined softly, her moans lost underneath the unreserved groans of the two lovers just several feet away. Had they not been so enthralled, and if Tatsuki had been more conscious of her surroundings, Orihime would've easily been discovered. But passion overwhelmed stealth; Orihime was safe from their detection.

Orihime quaked violently when her fingers began to dance along her panties. She had to bite rather painfully on her lower lip to keep from crying out in pleasure when massaging the apparent nub above her slit. Normally, she kept her brief and curious explorations of masturbation confined to the bathroom when she showered. It was never lustful and she couldn't honestly say she was sure she had an orgasm before, but she had an idea of how it was done. Still, her nipples had never ached like this before. Her snatch had never been so sensitive before! She wanted to cry out the name of the boy so close and yet so far away from her, wanted to be the one straddling his hips and making him cry out in such unreserved rapture.

Yet, at the same time, she watched her best friend bounce up and down. How long had Tatsuki kept this from her? How long did she intend for it to _continue?!_ This secret that she and Ichigo shared had now unintentionally become Orihime's. Tatsuki looked so beautiful, she mused, panting and glowing with sweat and blushing cheeks. She'd always thought that her friend had a wonderful body, toned and still supple. Orihime found it something of a tragedy that Tatsuki had decided to keep her bra and top on. If it had been her, Orihime fantasized, she'd strip herself and Ichigo bare and make love in a grassy field while the moon and stars watched.

" _Ah~!_ " Orihime could not keep the volume down as much as she wanted.

And Ichigo heard. What luck Orihime must've had when he did not look about the room. "Did you hear that?" he gasped out, watching Tatsuki continue riding him. "Was that… _uhn_ … Inoue?"

"She's at work," Tatsuki breathlessly replied. She splayed a hand over his chest for balance. "It just came from outside. Ignore it." Ichigo hadn't the concentration or breath to argue; he just arched and moaned deeply.

The way his body twisted and bucked appeared more like a dance in Orihime's eyes; Tatsuki, his partner, both performing their erotic tango for their concealed audience. Orihime would've wanted to cut in and finish this performance, but it was a pity to separate two that were in the throes of the rhythm. Maybe if Orihime practiced, got even better than Tatsuki…

Anxiously, the hidden schoolgirl shoved aside her panties to insert a pair of fingers into her soaked quim, trying to thrust in time with Tatsuki's writhing hips. She could hardly catch her breath, and the surmounting pleasure was about to crash through the weak barrier of restraint. Never before had she known such heights of pleasure. Her thumb and forefinger tugged at her hidden nipples, wishing to tear off the stuffy uniform and bask in naked pleasure while observing her two closest friends.

For the first time, Tatsuki threw her head back with prolonged moan. Droplets of sweat flew from her face. Her eyes were serenely shut and her mouth gaping. Her entire body wracked violently. Urgently, she pounded her hips down on Ichigo's, grunting and whining each time until she stilled altogether. Fluids leaked more profusely than before.

Ichigo tightened as well. Tatsuki's vagina contracted, embracing his vulnerable cock in a tight hold that beseeched his release. His push against her hips was pitiful, but relayed his message easier than his lips. "Cumming," he wheezed.

Though still woozy from her climax, Tatsuki knew better than to take risks. She lifted herself from him and sat back on his thighs. With his throbbing member exposed, she grabbed him near the base and jerked it in her strong fist. He hissed, telling her that she was a bit too rough. She, in turn, told him to stop whining, but complied and loosened her grip.

Orihime paused in her self-pleasuring the moment she saw the first ribbon of white gush from the head of Ichigo's cock. The stilled fingers halfway inside of her were suddenly gripped by undulating walls. It was so quick, but the visual of Ichigo's climax was enough to trigger her own. Her hand went to her mouth and her teeth clamped down ruthlessly on the flesh to keep her voice in check. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes from the pain – the pain in her hand and the pain of not being able to vocalize her utmost joy. Her digits moved subtly within her, but it was the sight of Ichigo's pearly discharge splattering over his uniform and exposed belly (with the weaker shots) until his tension finally was spent. Even after he was done, Orihime still convulsed with the tremors of her self-inflicted orgasm.

 _Now_ she could honestly say she had one…

Tatsuki and Ichigo took a moment to collect themselves. The first to make a move was, of course, Tatsuki. She brushed back her wild hair, which had drooped with the weight of sweat. Then, though a bit wobbly, she got to her feet and leered down at the boy still struggling to catch his breath. Blemishing his gray uniform were several long, white trails. If someone caught sight of it, there would be no question as to what it was. "Are you going to lie there all day, Ichigo?" Tatsuki scolded, turning about to retrieve her clothing. "We have to get going."

"Easy for you to say," Ichigo grumbled when he sat up and stared at the mess that had been made of his clothes. He blushed at the patches of cum that had landed over his chest. There was no choice but to remove the coat altogether and discretely wash it the second he got home. As he removed the soiled article, he glared at Tatsuki as she fastened her karate belt around her waist, not fully clothed. "You have a whole other set of clothes in the locker room."

Tatsuki smirked and nodded. "That's right. You won't be _too_ uncomfortable walking home in the state you're in, right?" She made a gesture to his soiled cock, which he quickly and begrudgingly tucked away in his boxers; yet another mess he would have to be discrete about washing. Angrily, he turned away from her and told her to shut up.

When the two had made themselves presentable, and Ichigo folded his shirt enough to where his semen-stains would not be detected, the wedging block was removed from the path of the sliding door. Tatsuki glanced out first to make sure that there had been no eavesdroppers; they were in the clear, and she led Ichigo out. "We still need to study, by the way," she reminded him while closing the door. She bumped his skull with the back of her fist. "Your grades are getting better, but not _that_ much better! You need to really concentrate, Ichigo!"

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled in reply, to which, Tatsuki snapped at him, ordering him not to say 'yeah, yeah' to her, otherwise she'd force him to call her sensei _again_ when they got home.

With the coast clear, the cart of balls was pushed away from the crevice, and a panting Orihime crawled out. Sweat poured down from her brow and vaginal secretions streaming down the insides of her thighs. The sweat-saturation pronounced the swells of her chest with the damp, white fabric clinging to her skin. She quivered, feeling as if butterflies were in her veins rather than blood. Every inch of her tingled.

She sat back on her haunches, a hand crossing across her body to grip the other arm. With her head bowed, curtains of her long, auburn hair veiled her flushed face. It had been such an experience to watch Ichigo and Tatsuki together like that, so wrought with pleasure for the _three_ of them! Orihime felt that she even hoarded the majority of the feeling for herself. And that was only from watching! The elated feeling had yet to ebb, and would surely stay with her for the remainder of the day and into the solitude of night.

Weakly, she crawled over to the mat and ran her fingers against the fading imprint of Ichigo's body. Either sapped by strength or overcome with passion, she fell onto the mat and inhaled deeply. A pleasant smile took her flushed features. "It still smells like Kurosaki-kun," she mewed.

At that moment, she decided that _once_ would not be enough for her…


	2. Chapter 2

**Not a Spectator's Sport**

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Michiru watched curiously. True, Orihime was usually the liveliest of their bunch, but she had never been so jittery. The buxom redhead squirmed restlessly, hardly paying any attention to her lunch. Her gray eyes were so full of excitement, her sights not on what was in front of her but what was in her head. What fantastical images were playing in her head, and who were the characters? Orihime's daydreaming seemed to only be taken notice of by the smallest of the group, as Michiru often pried into others affairs for gossip.

Turning back to her bento, the short-haired schoolgirl pecked at the portion of steamed rice with the tips of her chopsticks. Mahana was elsewhere, so Michiru couldn't rely on her bluntness to pick Orihime's brain. Tatsuki was also off to places unknown; luckily, Chizuru wasn't pestering Orihime at the moment in favor of preying on the first year mademoiselles that caught her eye. And as always, Ryou – with some downtime from coaching – was tranquilly taking proper portions of food into her mouth while reading her latest novel; she'd learn to tune out Orihime's liveliness when she was engrossed in the pages of her book. Michiru, on the other hand, had nothing to distract her from Orihime's enthralling behavior.

"Orihime," she finally blurted out, unable to help herself, "is something the matter?"

Having been called almost brought Orihime to exclaim in surprise. Forcing down her initial shock, padding the bead of sweat running down the side of her brow with her napkin, she turned and smiled at Michiru. "Huh? It's nothing, Michiru-chan," she half-chuckled to make herself seem less stressed.

"You seem on edge," Ryou put in, her eyes lifting from her book. "I've noticed it since the day started. You look over at Kurosaki and Tatsuki repeatedly when you should be paying attention to the lesson." She lowered her book, but marked her place with her thumb. Ignoring Michiru whining about how she didn't notice Orihime's behavior earlier, the track star went on to question, "Did something happen? Yesterday, you were looking for the two of them, weren't you?"

Orihime felt her heart jack-hammering in her bosom. It wasn't surprising that Ryou deciphered her behavior and hit the nail on the head so perfectly. The mention of yesterday and what transpired – the bucking motions of Ichigo's and Tatsuki's bodies meshing together over and over again in a passionate dance, their breaths hushed to try to keep their activity secret, all the while performing for a single spy…! " _Ah~!_ It's nothing, Ryou-chan!" Orihime finally blabbered, suddenly becoming flustered, which led to her suspicious rambling. "We just studied! Studied at Tatsuki-chan's house! Uh-huh! And then, Kurosaki-kun had to go home because it was his turn to make dinner for his sisters! And then my work called!" It was a lost cause trying to pay attention or believe her now. She was so apparent, even when she jumped to her feet and declared that she had to use the restroom.

As she scampered away, Michiru and Ryou watched. The latter said while returning her gaze to her novel, "Something happened yesterday."

"… Yeah…" Michiru sadly admitted to herself that it was unlikely that she would ever be privy to the apparently juicy gossip.

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Having slowed from her haste, Orihime now dragged her feet along the lonely corridors bridging the gymnasium to the main building. Her eyes were down on the cement, deep in thought. Kurosaki-kun and Tatsuki-chan; to be honest, she'd always thought they'd make a cute couple with their lovers' quarrels, and their secrecy only added to the romantic appeal in Orihime's warped opinion. She could imagine Ichigo, dressed in a suit, showing up at Tatsuki's house when no one was home.

A deep blush flooded over Orihime's face when she envisioned the passionate tango of their bodies as they made love on the floor of the living room. The image of Tatsuki started to blur, however, and it was not long before the orange-haired boy was rolling his naked hips against Orihime and chanting her name while she embraced him with her arms and legs.

Hands instantly clasped on either side of her crimson face. Though it was just a straying daydream, she reacted as though it was a verbal suggestion. Her palms slid over for her face to hide behind entirely. She was swooning, gushing, "No~, no~, Kurosaki-kun would never…!" It was an emotion mixing longing, denial, and elation. She moved in dizzying steps, wandering in sloppy circles like a drunk. "Kurosaki-kun~!"

"Orihime?"

Yelping, Orihime threw her hands down and stood erect – almost on her tiptoes – as she faced Mahana, who had just come sauntering down the corridor with her school-bought sandwich in her hand. Stuttering out her name, Orihime giggled nervously and put a hand behind her head. "I didn't see you coming this way."

Obviously, but Mahana wasn't about to make fun. Instead, she brought up a languid finger to point. "Were you just repeating Kurosaki's name?" She glanced left and right for any sign of Ichigo to see if the airhead was calling him over. Spotting no one in earshot, she looked to Orihime for an explanation.

Orihime paused – an awkward silence – before bubbling with a short laugh. "I just remembered that Kurosaki-kun asked to borrow a manga," she lied. "I wasn't sure if I was going to lend it to Ishida-kun or Kurosaki-kun, so I was working on a memory song!" She hastily hummed a few bars and threw in some horrendous lyrics to make the fib a bit more authentic. Thankfully, she was known to have bad songwriting skills, so Mahana didn't really question it.

Casually, the buxom interloper shrugged with her lips pursed. "Were you going somewhere? I thought you were eating with Ryou and Michiru."

"I went to go use the restroom," Orihime replied. "I was just going back when I thought up the 'Memory Song'." She made a mental note to start scribbling down a melody, as she was becoming keen to the idea of a musical reminder.

"Alright, let's go then." Mahana wasn't about to play detective. For her, everything was straightforward or not worth digging into. That was why Michiru always sought her out to look for gossip; Mahana never beat around the bush.

Orihime gave a slight nod and turned to join her. However, her foot planted itself and refused to carry on after Mahana. She had second thoughts before she even realized it. When the brown-haired girl turned to her for an explanation, she fidgeted nervously. There was something on her mind, and Mahana didn't have to be a genius to know that it was something other than the Memory Song.

Though green to relationships of her own beyond what she fantasized, Orihime knew of Mahana's share of boyfriends throughout the span of their high school years. She wasn't easy, but she was experienced. Of course, the boys of the school considered her to come in second – at best – when stacked up to the truest beauty of Karakura High: Inoue Orihime.

"Mahana-chan? I was wondering…" The redhead's fingers fumbled with the hem of her skirt. There was no real easy way to ask what she wanted to know. Around boys – more specifically, Ichigo – she was coy and could not speak what was on her mind and in her heart, not in any sensible way, at least. Forcing out a laugh even as a nervous sweat broke out over her forehead, she gestated a while longer, though Mahana was neither amused nor annoyed. " _Um_ , do you think… Kurosaki-kun likes Tatsuki-chan?"

The question wasn't what Mahana expected, but then again, she wasn't sure what was buzzing around in Orihime's brain most of the time. Folding her arms loosely over her stomach, she cocked her head to one side. What provoked Orihime to ask such a vague question? "Kurosaki was Tatsuki's friend since they were kids, wasn't he? I guess they _should_ like each other."

"Yeah, I forgot," Orihime dumbly said with a laugh and a playful knock on the side of her head. As forgetful as she was, it was a little hard to believe that she'd ever forget the pasts of her two best friends.

Deciding to play a bit more tact – Orihime's feelings for Ichigo were rather blatant – Mahana added to her answer, "I don't think they'd be 'involved', though. With their tempers, there's a lot of friction." She shrugged idly. "I don't even think Kurosaki is into having a relationship."

Orihime wasn't sure if that should boost her mood or depress her. Perhaps asking Mahana wasn't the best option; true, she was blunt and honest, but she didn't really know Kurosaki-kun well, even if she was privy to his double-life as an ethereal guardian of Karakura Town. Whether or not she was happy with the uneducated answer, Orihime nonetheless put on her brightest smile, giggled, and said, "I just thought it'd be funny! If Tatsuki-chan and Kurosaki-kun had a baby, it would have a funny frowny face, wouldn't it?"

Picturing it in her head, Mahana had to admit that those two would have quite the scary kid based on their usual appearances. Before she could put a comment to the image, her friend had pivoted and took a bouncing step heading away from their normal spot underneath the tree. "Hey, aren't you going to eat?"

Spinning around, hair flowing, Orihime waved a hand with a giggle. "I already ate some. I'm just going to the restroom!" With that said, she was on her merry way again, humming a tune while trying to work out proper lyrics to go along with the melody. Mahana couldn't do much beyond shrug and head down her own path, wanting to get something in her stomach before lunch was over.

Suddenly, she paused as a thought came to mind. Wasn't the lavatory in the other direction? She would've called Orihime to set her on the right path, but this surely wasn't the first time the ditzy schoolgirl got turned around or even forgot what she was doing.

ccc

Orihime's priority was not the restroom. That was just her usual excuse to get away. What she needed was some personal time to clear her head… and reminisce yesterday's events without friends trying to pry.

Alone in the outside corridor, she fell back against the wall and gave a heavy sigh. Already, she could feel her face warm with a blush. The mental images of Tatsuki-chan grinding atop Kurosaki-kun's lap came first, and the noises of sex soon lifted like the volume of a television. Orihime could recall possibly every detail of the scene she witnessed, down to the positioning of the mats and stray volleyballs that had rolled out of sight. Her best friend had never looked more gorgeous than when she was straddled on Ichigo.

The hotness of Orihime's face began to pass through the rest of her, to her fingers and toes but mostly at her groin. She should not have been fantasizing at school, but there was little else that could hope to compete with the significance of the vivid memory. Her underwear started to dampen as she foolishly continued to muse.

It was uncomfortably tempting. Her fingers twitched before they grazed her thigh just underneath the hem of her skirt. She did not give into the urge, not yet; it wouldn't take more than a minute or two of this heat to convince her that relief was necessary. Her toes curled in her shoes, and her fingers twitched and fought to ignore the need to stimulate herself. It was a struggle, and not one she could bear for much longer.

It would've only been a matter of seconds before she shamefully let her hands be beckoned underneath her skirt were it not for someone turning the corner into her corridor further down the path. She threw her hands behind her back and pressed against them to hide their trembling. She tried not to act conspicuous, though she couldn't help blurting out a standard greeting to the freshman boy walking by her; he was one of many of her admirers and could hardly form a syllable when trying to return the hello. Just inhaling her faint scent was almost enough to have him lightheaded. He wondered if it was possible to actually get a hold of his tongue and have a conversation with the legendary Inoue Orihime.

"Oh, Inoue."

Dreams were shattered for the lad when none other than Kurosaki Ichigo arrived on the scene, strolling in that casual way that made others think he cared naught for the school or the people in it. The freshman lingered, still thinking he might have a chance to talk with Orihime if her conversation with Ichigo was brief. Of course, that sort of thinking was proven wrong when Orihime instantly pivoted off the wall, turning her back entirely to the freshman and ignoring him completely. Like so many others his age, the boy had failed to engage Orihime. At the very least, he could tell his friends that she actually said hello to him.

"K-Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime blubbered. Her cheeks flared like they never had before and she could feel sweltering heat branch out to every point in her body. It took a surprising amount of control not to let her sight drift downward and let memory serve her in imagining what was underneath Ichigo's pants. She was more flustered than usual, and as usual, Ichigo didn't very much have an idea why. " _Heh_ , Kurosaki-kun… I want you! I mean…" She touched her fingertips to her cheek, embarrassed by what she had just said. "I mean, I was looking for you."

"You were?" Ichigo arched an eyebrow and scratched the back of his head. Nonetheless, his face brightened with a small grin that was enough to turn Orihime's legs into jelly; she tried to keep a straight face, but had to grab onto the side railing of the walkway to steady herself. "Well, I was looking for you too, actually. I meant to tell you in class, but Keigo…" He rolled his eyes when he recalled how his distracting friend kept tugging on his arm and pleading with him to take a glimpse at the models in the magazine he had brought to school; Ichigo couldn't be so easily tempted, so it was much simpler to just put Keigo out with a quick hit with the back of his fist.

"Anyway," Ichigo continued after breaking out of his train of thought, "Tatsuki wanted to know if you were free after school. She got permission for the three of us to study in the classroom when everyone leaves. She knew that you really wanted to study more."

Orihime sucked on her lips. Tatsuki-chan was actually the one who wanted her there? Obviously it was not for Orihime to study; Tatsuki knew better than most that she was one of the highest-scoring students in the class and needn't extra time to study. This was a ploy to get Orihime closer to Ichigo, just like she'd always wanted. It seemed that, despite her newfound relationship with Ichigo, Tatsuki still did not want to come between Orihime's feelings; she was completely unaware that Orihime _knew_ about her and Kurosaki-kun's little affair.

" _Um…_ I can't," Orihime said with much more ease than she thought. "I… I work tonight, Kurosaki-kun." It was a little sad to lie to Ichigo, but she had her reasons. Her boss had been very clear that she could take today off; there was no chance of being called in at the last minute.

It was hard not to change her mind when she saw the disappointed look on Ichigo's face. In all honesty, she would've been studying with him in a heartbeat if Tatsuki was not going to be present. It wasn't so much loathing, jealousy, or betrayal that had her wanting to avoid their rendezvous; Orihime just had other things in mind.

"That's too bad," grumbled Ichigo. Again, he put on a charming smile; Orihime had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from gushing about how adorable he was. "We haven't been spending much time with each other lately."

Orihime held back a whine. She would make time for hi, she wanted to promise. But not now…

"By the way, what were you looking for me for?"

" _Huh?_ " Orihime temporarily forgot her first lie to Kurosaki-kun upon this encounter. Giggling at her forgetfulness, she said, "I just wanted to tell you that I wouldn't be able to study with you today. But I want you to have fun studying with Tatsuki-chan!"

Ichigo arched an eyebrow. What a curious thing to say… Have fun studying?

ccc **After School** ccc

" _Ah! Uhn, uh! Ah~!_ " Tatsuki's moans stringed together as Ichigo took her forcibly from behind. Textbooks, papers and pencils were sprawled around their feet after they had decided to remove the clutter during the outburst of their passion, postponing their study session. Tatsuki was leaning over the desk in the front row of the classroom, fingers curling around the edges to help keep her posture. She was fully clothed; Ichigo had pushed up the back of her skirt and she had pulled her panties to one side so that he could slip into her ready entrance as quickly as possible. If someone happened to come into the room, she need only to pull Ichigo out of her to become decent again, although she would still be panting and flushed.

They truly had tried to keep their thoughts on studying, but it had become far too difficult. Tatsuki noticed too often how Ichigo's eyes would 'discretely' stray to her chest when she leaned forward, and Ichigo noticed that her hand touched his thigh far too often to simply be a mistake. As always, Tatsuki had been the one who engage first, calling him out for ogling her chest and saying he was more of a pervert than he let on. Even after saying that, she flicked the pencil from his hand and replaced it with her bosom; Ichigo couldn't deny that he had already grown hard and was getting frustrated with playing pretend with their studying. He thoroughly groped her – would've gone for unbuttoning her blouse had she not told him otherwise – while she fumbled with his zipper. She'd become nimble enough to easily sift through the layers of his boxers and fish him out within a few seconds. She stroked him as if he needed to be coaxed, and then beckoned him to stand up and come behind her.

Thus, their studying was all but forgotten.

Of course, they were too blinded by lust to make sure that the coast was clear; they'd assumed that all the doors had remained closed since no one had used them since class was let out. They didn't notice that the back door had slid open just enough for a gray eye to peep through.

Orihime had suspected this outcome; it was the reason she declined Ichigo's offer to study with him and Tatsuki. She was not so naïve that she couldn't put two and two together when the components were there. She could very well guess that this love affair had taken place for quite some time – perhaps even back when they first started their little study group. It didn't particularly matter to Orihime, but she did want some definite details to put in her wild imagination.

Hiding out in the open like this – in an empty hallway – was quite the risk, but that in itself carried its own unique appeal. She didn't want to be caught, but she pondered the outcome should Tatsuki-chan or – more preferably – Kurosaki-kun spot her peeping in on them. She wasn't exactly sure how she or they would react, but they'd cross that bridge when and if they came to it; for now, she was content with some solo-play while observing Ichigo pounding her best friend atop Ryou's desk. Orihime's cheeks remained deeply flushed as she felt herself underneath her cotton-white panties; she was so wet, far more than she'd ever been before witnessing Ichigo and Tatsuki that first time.

Sometimes she feared that she'd uttered her pleasure too loudly, but Tatsuki's voice overlapped hers. "Lift my leg," the judo trainer gasped to her lover. He obeyed, cradling the back of her right knee to elevate it until her juncture was almost spread to an obtuse angel. The both of them cried out from the change of sensation; Tatsuki felt like Ichigo was hammering the back of her vagina with far more force and ease than before. Taken over by lust, Ichigo moved his hips more frantically. The desk they braced on buckled and screeched as it was dragged across the tiled floor; it was a miracle that none of the faculty had come to inspect the ruckus, but that was just fine by them.

Orihime held her breath and stilled altogether when Ichigo's stabs became sharper and more frantic. As she had expected, though Ichigo only gave a deep-throated grunt to signal it, he came. The latex reservoir at the tip of the condom caught his release, protecting Tatsuki from possible-impregnation. Even as the latex sheath filled with his essence, Ichigo continued to thrust deeper and deeper into his friend, as though caught up in some primal instinct to fire off as deep as he could within his target.

Tatsuki hissed with a little bit of pain from having his cockhead knocking so earnestly against her cervix. Still out of breath, she told him to calm down and put a hand on his hips to enforce her order. Ichigo had since gone slack, spending all he could inside of his classmate. He was still a little stiff when he pulled out, but neither he nor Tatsuki had the energy to suggest a second go; besides, they'd been lucky in not getting caught so far, but they weren't really willing to press that luck.

Tatsuki's panties were kept pulled to one side even after Ichigo dislodged himself from her wet heat. She wanted to clean up a little bit before readjusting it. "I'm not going to walk home in wet underwear because of you," she scolded Ichigo as he brought over a box of tissue.

As she cleaned up the splotches of her essence from her thighs and sex, Ichigo hassled with the removal of his condom. It had been tricky to put one on in the past, but taking it off was still a little difficult. It had to be done at an angel, or he'd spill the gooey contents all over the floor and his lap – like the first time he took off a used condom. He managed without spilling a drop, even though there was a rather hefty load sagging the transparent protector. He tied the end to keep his semen captured, and then wadded it up with four tissues and tossed it in the wastebasket; hopefully the garbage would be taken out soon so that the evidence would be out of the room in the morning.

"Ichigo!" He spun to Tatsuki, who had sounded rather urgent. She pointed directly at the back door and glowered at him. "You didn't make sure the door was closed?! Stupid, what if someone saw us?!" Her face was red just from imagining such a mishap. She swatted the side of his head and said, "Be more careful next time."

Ichigo took the scolding without complaint, but there was one thing that was bothering him: he had come in through that door, and he _had_ made sure that it was closed.

ccc

Close calls always gave Orihime a thrill; she had many of them when she went with Ichigo and the others to Soul Society to retrieve Rukia. She knew it should've given her a sense of shame to have done something so _naughty_ while watching her two closest friends in the throes of intimate, _private_ passion, but it only gave her a sense of butterflies pulsating through her body instead of blood. Her wobbly walk home felt more like she was drifting through clouds.

However, there was one, solitary disappointment about catching them this day. "I… couldn't really see Kurosaki-kun," she murmured to herself with a profuse blush. It may have been so that she found Tatsuki very stunning, but Orihime had been in the changing room with her enough times to have already mapped out the full form of the martial artist; besides, she wasn't of the persuasion to be enthralled solely on female parts.

Kurosaki-kun's hips gyrating powerfully, his face scrunched up in effort and desire… _That_ was what Orihime wanted to watch! But sadly, his back was to her when he took Tatsuki, and Orihime hadn't even the time to witness the dismount; she felt that she couldn't risk it when they came down from their euphoric high. And so, she missed any chance of seeing Ichigo's private regions.

That wouldn't have been the case if she had been in Tatsuki-chan's place…

Orihime immediately gushed and tried to shake those thoughts from her head. She could admit to sometimes being a jealous person – having been envious of Ichigo's tight relationship with Rukia – but it was bad for her to remove a friend entirely from their place, especially a friend as good as Tatsuki.

" _O~ri-hi~me~!_ "

The redhead perked up and looked down the path to see none other than Michiru and Mahana waiting further down the sidewalk; Ryou was missing because of her afterschool activities. Smiling brightly, Orihime greeted them both with a flamboyant wave; she would've run to them if her legs weren't still feeling a little shaky. Still, as quickly as she could, she went to gather with her two friends.

"We're going over to Mahana's house to do homework," Michiru declared. Her cheeriness waned a little when she blushed and looked down at her fiddling fingers. "I'm falling behind a little, so I could use the extra help." Mahana was a good partner to study with, but Orihime was significantly better, holding one of the top five grades in the class.

Orihime smiled brightly and announced that she did not have any work today. "I'll come with you, if you want, Michiru-chan."

Though she wouldn't admit it out loud – fearing Mahana's loudmouth – Michiru was glad that the auburn-headed schoolgirl volunteered her help outright; asking for things directly always made her a little jittery. Even so, she thanked Orihime eagerly and suggested that the press on to Mahana's house.

ccc

Mahana had a modest bedroom, rather plain even when compared to Orihime's apartment; Michiru sometimes fussed over the lack of stuffed animals or other girly novelties that she kept strewn about her bedroom. Not really seeing the point of stockpiling plushies, Mahana just shrugged off the complaints and threw her textbook on the bed.

Though she was the one who needed to study, Michiru hardly cracked open her book before a whisper of gossip left her lips. Neither Orihime nor Mahana seemed particularly interested, but the smaller girl carried on until her continuous chatter finally sparked a steady conversation. Michiru was a chatterbox, but Orihime was fine with that; she loved talking with Tatsuki, but Michiru's difference in interests – cute things opposed to violence and boyish things – was a welcome change of pace. As usual, Mahana rarely said anything, content to just soak in everything and give an unbiased point of view every so often.

Hardly any time was spent with their textbooks; they perhaps got thirty minutes or less to study before Michiru realized how late it was. Whining, she threw her things into her schoolbag. "I have to go," she practically sobbed. "I'll see you both at school tomorrow!" Orihime and Mahana didn't even get a chance to say goodbye when Michiru scampered out of the room and headed for home.

Orihime and Mahana were not exactly great conversationalists, as they were different in very many ways; Orihime was imaginative where Mahana was practical, and where Mahana was painfully blunt, Orihime painfully pussyfooted around whatever was on her mind. But nonetheless, they were good friends.

Mahana's big eyes looked over at her remaining friend. She took a moment, as if sizing Orihime up, and then asked, "Orihime, why were you acting so strange at school?"

" _Huh?_ " Orihime flushed profusely, for the mention of school brought about the mentally-recorded scene that had been running rapid through her mind all day. Tatsuki-chan pushed over a desk, Kurosaki-kun's hips stalling with a staggering shudder…

"At lunch, you were acting so…" Mahana looked up, trying to place a word to describe Orihime's actions. "You were strange." Orihime, luckily, wasn't the type to take offense. "Why were you asking about Tatsuki and Kurosaki?" She leaned in closer to the redhead, though she did not seem particularly interested; she just wanted facts. "Is it like the time Kuchiki-san was coming to school? Do you think Tatsuki and Kurosaki have a relationship?"

It was far more complicated than that, and Orihime didn't have to _think_ ; she _knew_ what their relationship was. Uncomfortable on the floor all of a sudden, Orihime leapt to her feet, giggling and stumbling around the room, rubbing her head and not being able to be more obvious that she knew something that others shouldn't know. Mahana wasn't one to pick a friend's brain; her unfaltering stare kind of just pried the truth out by itself.

"Tatsuki-chan and Kurosaki-kun are just friends," Orihime repeated what was told to her by Mahana just earlier that day. "There's no reason to think that they're… doing things." She laughed anxiously.

At the very least, Mahana could pick out that the troubles of Orihime did involve Tatsuki and Ichigo and a possible budding relationship between them. Mahana found that mildly odd, as she believed Tatsuki knew about Orihime's obvious feelings for Ichigo; also, she and her friends were toying with the idea that Tatsuki might be of another 'persuasion'. Well, it wasn't like Orihime called dibs, and had even once encouraged a harem of all her friends on Kurosaki-kun for an 'overwhelming victory'.

Best not to pry; if backed into a corner, Orihime would explode with weirdness that some people would've felt better off not hearing. Mahana was not interested in the odd musings that her airheaded friend could concoct in the heat of the moment.

Orihime was on her feet, and for a moment, Mahana thought that she would be taking her leave too until she started to pace the room, idly walking her fingers across the surfaces of furniture. "Is something wrong?" Mahana felt she had to ask. Orihime could pretend that she was as normal as she could be, but there was no mistaking the downtrodden look in her otherwise-wondrous eyes.

This time, as she came to stand in front of a mirror to observe her reflection, Orihime did not try to disguise her feelings with a smile. She wasn't exactly sad, but she certainly wasn't happy; perhaps puzzled? "Mahana-chan…" She paused briefly. "What do boys like?" She spun around swiftly and laughed innocently, though Mahana knew better than to take that as a sign that all was well and innocent. "I know they like video games and manga. But…" She blushed, her smile fading coyly when she looked away from her friend. "What do they like with a girl?"

Mahana leaned her cheek onto her knuckles. That was an easy enough question to answer. "Basically, what they like is you," she flatly answered. It was no secret that Orihime's beauty was acknowledged by possibly the entire school. Of course, Orihime was rather slow to the concept that boys watched her intently and snuck cell phone pictures of her. "More specifically," Mahana went on before the airhead could ask an obvious follow-up question, "they like _those_." She gestured to the blouse straining across Orihime's bust.

Orihime looked down at her attributes, wondering if this fact was true. Though she was asking generally, she was really more interested in what _Ichigo_ liked with girls. She remembered that a long time ago, around the time Rukia was first enrolled in Karakura High, Tatsuki had mentioned something similar about her busty chest being used to 'take down' Ichigo. But after seeing Ichigo in the rhythmic dance of passion, she didn't recall ever seeing him take particular interest in Tatsuki's chest. It couldn't have been that she was too small in that area; Orihime had seen Tatsuki fully naked before, and though she wasn't hefting around melons of her friend's stature, she still had nicely complimenting breasts to lure in lustful stares (when she flaunted them).

" _Um… Heheh…_ " Maybe Orihime wasn't so clear in what she really wanted to know. Her trivia for boys was a bit more adult than schoolyard banter. She fiddled with her fingers. "What… what I mean is, for… for another thing." She hadn't the nerve to use the right vocabulary. She wanted to know about carnal pleasures and what boys liked for it, but anything sexual coming from her prim mouth would make her feel like she was being crude. She blurted out with boisterous laughter. "You know? When… when a boy and a girl… I mean, a man and a woman…!" She was probably blushing redder than Mahana had ever seen before.

"Are you talking about sex?" Mahana had to quirk an eyebrow. Never before had Orihime really gave any indication about an interest in physical relations before aside from mentioning a victorious orgy on Kurosaki a while back. For once, mindless jabber didn't pour from Orihime's mouth. "Is that what you're asking about?"

Orihime's silent blush alone was a certain-enough affirmation; if Mahana had been mistaken, Orihime would've stilled blush, but would've immediately corrected her. Unconsciously, the redhead began to hastily twirl the end of a tassel of hair. " _Um…_ I was just wondering if there were certain things that guys like," she mumbled. She didn't want to say it out loud – knowing that it could come off as an offensive suggestion – but she knew that Mahana had a fair share of 'boyfriends'.

"Why do you ask?"

To exceed Tatsuki-chan and impress Kurosaki-kun… She wouldn't say such an awful thing, though it was basically her goal. "Just curious," she very obviously lied.

Mahana would accept that. She was sometimes very nosey – not as much as Michiru – but she didn't want to make Orihime uncomfortable by seeking a truthful answer. Whatever it was on her mind, it was really her own business. "When you ask what they 'like', do you mean kinks?" Orihime gave a look, curious about the terminology. "Fetishes," Mahana said.

It wasn't too naughty of a word, but Orihime still felt herself leap when it was spoken. Even if it made her feel a little giddy inside, she nodded. Fetishes; yes, that was what she wanted to know.

Mahana looked upward in thought. She had been exposed to the various kinks of certain kinds; one boyfriend adored her feet obsessively, which she found weird at first but ultimately gave in to the pleasurable feel of his tongue crossing over and between her toes, and another boyfriend liked toys. She had to admit she'd become rather fond of the latter's fetish. If Orihime was so curious, she felt it might be appropriate to share it with her.

Mahan rose from her seat and headed over to the drawers that Orihime was currently standing in front of. The redhead staggered away as if pushed, though Mahana merely squeezed by her to open the top drawer. Nothing out of the ordinary, Orihime mused, until some impressively-large bras were moved aside and a long, plain but curious box was taken out. At first, she believed it contained some jewelry, perhaps the kind that boys – namely Ichigo – would find most attractive. However, when the lid was removed, she was stunned to see a transparent, green-colored phallic device set neatly on a red, velvet cushion. She may not have known right away what it was, but she had a very good idea what it was for; she may have only seen glimpses of it before it disappeared into Tatsuki-chan's body, but she knew the shape of a cock.

She leaned in close, eyes dazzled and mouth gaping while making a noise of wonderment. She was acting like she had been exposed to a chest of gold, jewels, and other treasures. Mahana felt a little awkward letting her face get too close; this wasn't a virgin item, after all. "Ma-Mahana-chan," breathed the confounded girl. Her gray eyes finally lifted. "What is it?"

Not surprising that she would ask such a thing… "It's called a dildo." As usual, Mahana didn't feel in the least bit uncomfortable in saying embarrassing things. "Women usually use this by themselves, but there are men who like to use it when with a woman."

"Really?"

"It's a fetish," Mahana clarified. "There're a lot more than just toys, though. Bondage, role-play, dominance…" She didn't go into too elaborate of a list, feeling that it might be too much even for Orihime; Orihime, however, perked up and laughed when the 'princess' fetish was mentioned. As dim as she was to outrageous sexual acts, she actually had some knowledge of that particular fetish, mentioning how she always thought the leather corset, thigh-high boots, long gloves, mask, and whip combination was very cute; Mahana wasn't sure she'd call _that_ particular fetish 'cute' – maybe 'extreme' would be more appropriate, but Orihime was rather 'extreme' herself at times.

When Mahana was done with her short list and explaining a few fetishes, the two were momentarily quiet; Mahana waited a moment for Orihime to soak it all in. When it came to information, Orihime was definitely like a sponge. After she'd registered all these otherwise embarrassing facts and suggestions, she really only had one last thing to ask: "… Where can I buy some?"

ccc

Sex…

Ichigo had to wonder how he'd been able to suppress those urges for so long. Sure, he'd taken to the showers whenever unbridled lust could not be overcome with pure thoughts and sheer grit. After Tatsuki had mounted him that first time, he found more difficulty in stalling his raging hormones when she provoked him. He wished she could control herself a bit more, if only for his benefit. If she wished to, she'd probably get him to mess around with her in some _very_ risky situations – even riskier than what they had done already.

His hand came up and rubbed the back of his head. He'd stayed afterschool a lot longer than he'd intended; Tatsuki may not have been the worrier he was, but he wanted to make absolutely sure that not a trace of their romp was detectable in the classroom. Ochi Misato-sensei had come in at some point and was very pleased when Ichigo stutteringly told her that he was just cleaning up for her; because of that, he wound up cleaning up every inch of the classroom while his nonchalant teacher sat at the front desk, reading a magazine.

The old man is probably going to overreact about his tardiness, Ichigo thought, annoyed. He could already visualize the flying double-kick aimed at his face the moment he walked through the door. What he couldn't anticipate, however, was crashing into Orihime around the corner. It wasn't a harsh collision, but Orihime was knocked off balance; if not for his speedy reflexes, he wouldn't have been able to catch her wrist at the last second and she'd be on her ass.

" _Ow_ ," she whined weakly, rubbing her forehead. She smiled cheerily in spite of the pain and quickly apologized. "Sorry, sorry!" Her eyes opened, and she was most surprised to see none other than Ichigo holding her wrist and keeping her aloft. "K-Kurosaki-kun?!"

"Sorry, Inoue. I wasn't paying attention." He hoisted her to a balanced stance. "Are you okay?"

With a staggering, backward step, Orihime giggled. "Of course! My head's really hard!" She knocked on her skull roughly, though Ichigo told her she didn't need to go that far to convince him. After her masochistic demonstration that left her with a mild headache, she stared off to the side and clutched the handle of her schoolbag tightly with both hands. " _Um_ , I thought you had gone home already. Did… did you stay late with Tatsuki-chan?" She knew that they were together – having spied on them in the act – but that had been some time ago.

Ichigo put on a fake, cheery smile – Orihime could tell its falsehood – to try to hide his anxiety about conversation involving Tatsuki. "Yeah, a little," he blabbered. "Misato-sensei asked me to clean the classroom, though, so I stayed later than I intended." He was pretty bad at lying – not having much of a poker face – but under normal circumstances, Orihime would've been inclined to believe him. But she bore witness to the truth…

She did not hold it against him. It was his personal life, and she had no right to be snooping; it'd be like _she_ was the one betraying his trust. After swallowing hard and trying not to remind herself of the erotic scene she exposed herself to earlier, she laughed prior to saying, "I was just on my way home from Mahana-chan's house."

A quaint smile was about to spread on his face, but Ichigo suddenly paused and arched an eyebrow. "From Natsui's? I thought you had work afterschool." He didn't sound accusing, just perplexed. He knew Orihime to be absentminded, but he hoped that it didn't affect her job performance. Ikumi made it her business to keep her employee punctual and present; he doubted Orihime's boss would go out of her way to preserve her job.

" _Ah?!_ " Orihime froze, shocked from being caught in a lie she'd all but forgotten about. She staggered as if Ichigo had shoved her. Cheeks flushed brightly. "I… I did go to work! But it was short!" she jabbered quickly, hoping that the sooner she spouted her half-thought-out lie, the sooner Kurosaki-kun would let the matter drop and press on. "Mahana-chan came to the bakery, and my boss let me go home with her to study with Michiru-chan!"

Quirking his lips at one side, Ichigo chose to dismiss the curiousness of her explanation. He'd been out long enough for a day when he didn't work, and Yuzu always worried for his tardiness on those days. Looking up at the day-waning skies, though, he wasn't so sure it'd be too bad if he was a few minutes late. "If you're on your way home," he began, his eyes falling back on the redhead, "I'll walk you."

"What?!" For the second time, Ichigo caught Orihime off guard, and her blush increased – if that was at all possible. " _Eh?_ " She wasn't sure how to respond. Her first impulse was to politely decline so as to keep from troubling himself by going out of his way for her. However, from years ago, she recalled how Tatsuki-chan had scolded her for turning down a past offer of Ichigo's to walk her home. By Tatsuki's reckoning, a walk home would be the perfect opportunity to 'take him down', and as embarrassed as she was to admit it – even to herself – that had started to become a goal.

Suppressing the natural urge to be polite and gulping it down with a lump of anxiety, she stammered before finally saying, "That… that'd be good, Kurosaki-kun!" She couldn't think of anything better to say, and chose to just keep her lips tightly sealed afterward. Ichigo, of course, didn't comment and just gave her that warm smile that very few had ever seen.

So onward they walked. Ichigo was familiar with the route to Orihime's house, so there was no need to ask for directions when they came upon corners. Besides, from Ichigo's point of view, Orihime's fidgeting and pursed lips gave the impression that the chatter-box redhead wasn't very much in the mood for conversation.

Far to the contrary, however, Orihime was desperately sifting through plausible topics, though her imagination was a great distraction. What would happen when they were at her apartment, alone in the porch light? She could just imagine Ichigo forgoing his cold and shy exterior to cradle her chin ever so delicately, force her gaze to his, and confess powerful feelings for her he just couldn't express until now. Of course, in this delusion, Ichigo was dressed in a tuxedo, she was clad in street-worn and tattered clothes, and her home had been reduced to a pauper's shack; the theme was a rich, well-off boy falling for the poor, near-homeless peasant. And after a deep, passionate, initially-nervous – for her part – kiss, he'd encourage her to take him inside. From there, the fantasy got more graphic, intense, and adult than what she was used to. Normally, her mind would take her into a different tangent to run in the Olympics or judge a cake contest. Watching his romps with Tatsuki surely had influenced her way of daydreaming.

Ichigo immediately noticed when Orihime jerked her upper body to one side, and he could see how red stained her cheeks. It wasn't too warm out. "Are you okay?"

Orihime blabbered a little, trying to get her mouth to work, and finally straightened out. She was still blushing profusely and could not even bring herself to look at Ichigo; she'd probably faint if she looked him in the eyes now. Even if he wasn't smartly-dressed and glittering with magic dust, he was enough to have her swooning. She cupped a hand over her mouth and nose, fearing what breathing in his faint, but distinctive scent would make her do. In her breast, her heart was fluttering madly. It was dangerously near to the exhilaration she experienced while spying on him and Tatsuki.

"I'm fine," she told him. The heat was roiling, and it was making every inch of her tremble. Reason – whatever sort she had – was becoming obscure, and she was surprised at how much she wanted to touch Ichigo, to slide her hands across his naked skin, to trail down and carefully close her hand around…

"Well, we're here," Ichigo announced before Orihime's perverted imagery could grasp what she craved. She almost jumped when he spoke. And when she looked, she realized that they were now at the bottom of the steps leading up to her home. Without even realizing it, she'd walked all this way!

 _Too quick_ , her mind cried! _Too soon!_

"I'll see you tomorrow," Ichigo said, not one to drag out goodbyes.

He was about to turn, and though she'd already murmured an agreement and waved in farewell, Orihime blurted out for him to wait. It was impulse, an act on hormonal need. Her thighs closed together, experiencing the wet heat that threatened to dampen her underwear. The fresh scent of Kurosaki Ichigo was already wafting through her lungs.

Ichigo did not move, looking at her in mid-turn. "What is it?" he asked when she did not speak.

" _Uhm…_ " She froze for only a moment before laughingly gesturing to her apartment and saying, "How… how about you come up with me? I just bought some ice cream yesterday. And… and we could have some!" Admittedly, she was not so interested in snacking with Ichigo as she was in the sticky mess that could be made of the two of them. She thought of Ichigo leaning towards her, sensually lapping up a trickle of ice cream at the corner of her lips.

"No thanks."

And that wonderful, exciting illusion broke apart…

"I'm late at it is," Ichigo grumbled in resentment for the unspoken curfew Yuzu had put him on. She was too much of a worrier, but Ichigo tried his best to make sure she didn't worry. "Yuzu probably already put dinner on the table, and she doesn't let anyone eat until everyone's there."

Orihime inwardly sulked. It was hard not to let her gloom outwardly show, though her lifted smile did grow heavier. "Oh… Then, maybe some other time," she compromised; she wondered if she'd ever have a chance or the courage to try again. It was unlikely.

"Sure," Ichigo promised with a smile. Then with another goodbye, he parted ways with a disappointed redhead.

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It wasn't more than two days later that Orihime caught them again. Once more, they fibbed and gave the pretense that they were study buddies afterschool; Orihime could see through their lies, but still feigned innocence.

She enjoyed catching them.

This time, it was rather different than when Orihime witnessed their passion before. Tatsuki-chan was leaning back against the wall in the deep corner of the adjoining locker rooms and gym. Rather than be at his full height and looming over her, Ichigo was on his knees, his face nestled – or yanked, considering that Tatsuki held a tight fistful of his bright hair – against her groin while his played hands pushed up her skirt. She did him the favor of holding her panties to one side for him while his tongue flourished eagerly against her folds.

Risky… There was no secluded spot to spy on them aside from peeking around a corner; the only other option was peering down from the roof, but how was Orihime supposed to get up there? A cautious person would've just counted the day as a failure and would've just left them alone, but Orihime refused!

She ducked low, and any pervert would've had a nice vantage point of peeking under her skirt. Slowly, she peeked around the corner and watched. As bold as she was, she wouldn't let herself gaze for more than a few seconds at a time, for Tatsuki was cautious and would glance around to ensure hers and Ichigo's privacy.

Panting, sweat running down from her brow, Tatsuki tugged on Ichigo's hair. "H-hurry up," she wheezed, pulling him like the reins on a horse. She may not have been able to visibly see anyone, but something told her that the danger of being found out was close; again, she just narrowly missed spotting the head of orange hair peeking out on her.

Ichigo's closed eyes opened to glare up at her, though his tongue never stopped its wild pattern. How was he supposed to hurry up when _she_ was the one who'd yet to climax? He'd been busily licking and kissing her pussy for almost six minutes, and his mouth was getting tired.

"Don't give me that look," she snapped at him, pulling painfully at a tassel of his hair; he winced in response. " _You're_ the one that forgot to bring condoms."

Like it was his responsibility to stock up every time they ran out… He couldn't keep sneaking some from his dad's pharmacy; the suspicious old man would eventually find out and have that heart-to-heart that Ichigo dreaded since before the first time he heard it. And Ichigo wasn't exactly keen on spending his hard-earned money on condoms every week. Tatsuki was insatiable! Sometimes, they would go through two condoms a session!

Spurred by his frustration, Ichigo doubled his efforts. The hands holding up her skirt wound around to her ass, gripping the taut cheeks with a force that even made her gasp. She did not need to hold onto his hair anymore, as he was now the one pulling her crotch to his face to lash at with his tongue. Gasping and exceptionally turned on by his sudden gusto, Tatsuki braced herself while staring down at him; she was at the point where she wouldn't even care if someone was watching them, so long as she could finish.

" _Yes!_ " she gasped. " _Yes, right there! Oh~!_ " Her body began to shudder. She bit her lower lip while watching Ichigo intensely. Though he really didn't need the aid at the rate he was going, she began to buck against his tongue to set off her orgasm. She could almost rip out his bright hair from how tightly her fingers locked on his scalp, but he continued uninterrupted by the pain and continued to flourish his tongue enthusiastically.

Orihime had to clutch onto the hem of her skirt and bite her lower lip painfully. There was an aching need in between her now-moist thighs, but she could not risk fulfilling that need. Watching Tatsuki-chan arch and thrust her pelvis to Kurosaki-kun's mouth certainly was hard to resist… How would they react if she suddenly made herself known to them and lifted her skirt for Ichigo to inspect? In her fantasies, she'd be eagerly welcomed; reality suggested that Tatsuki would become embarrassingly flustered and Ichigo – cutely and ignorantly shy most times – would either run or refuse.

Orihime decided not to indulge her more delusional side and merely listened and watched Tatsuki ride out her orgasm.

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For the next month, Orihime had caught them several more times, either in school or even public areas like the park. It must've been Tatsuki-chan's suggestion that encouraged them to try such risky areas, as Kurosaki-kun was far too modest to take the initiative and be bold. When she could, Orihime would watch them and would even indulge her own growing needs for fulfillment as Ichigo's hips met with Tatsuki's in various positions.

Where were they learning it?!

Orihime had only known about 'missionary' – as that was the standard in health class – but sometimes Tatsuki would be sitting on top, sometimes she'd be against the wall, sometimes Ichigo would be carrying her… She was so adventurous, and Orihime was growing more and more envious.

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A certain night – after her latest discovery of some Ichigo/Tatsuki coupling – her thoughts were plagued with restless imaginings that had Orihime tossing and turning, whimpering and sweating underneath her flowing nightclothes. No matter how hard she tried, whatever methods she used, she just could not find a comfortable setting to just settle down in and go to sleep. She could close her eyes, but that was about all she could do. When they were shut, the visions in her head became more focused.

A lot of the time, she'd recall watching Ichigo and Tatsuki, either in the storage room or the classroom. She transfixed her attention to Kurosaki-kun's heaving hips and would sometimes acknowledge how Tatsuki-chan's body buckled with every impact. It wasn't long before Orihime could even recount the exact scent of their sex filling the air.

She imagined how it could be if _she_ was the one to be with Ichigo on these secretive excursions. He would pine for her; that was how her fantasy went, anyway. His hands would be greedy on her, frantically groping her curves, desperate for just the merest brush of skin upon skin. She'd embarrassingly refuse him and try to remind him that they were in school and their classmates were all gathered in the other room; they could hear them if they were too loud!

They'd definitely hear the thump of her body being pushed up against the wall, though luckily, no one would discover the two lovers in the next room. Orihime would gasp and whine as Ichigo's lips purged hers, his hands finally giving up on her uniform to press up her skirt.

When did he have the time to unzip himself and free his length? She could feel it arching against the front of her panties: long and solid, pulsating with urgency and lust. Though she was protesting before, she voluntarily opened her legs now and granted the hands permission to do as they pleased. Kurosaki-kun was too impatient to pull them down; instead, he yanked them to one side, briefly and halfheartedly apologizing when he heard fabric stretch too far, and lined himself up for the plunge. The blunt head nuzzled and kissed her nether lips, sinking through carefully. And then the rest of the shaft…

" _Ahhn~!_ "

In her bed, Orihime sustained her wail of pleasure while her hips raised high from the bed, lifting the sheets over her. Lost in the fog of her own erotic dream, her hand had taken the liberty to slip underneath her panties and probe her saturated heat. Unconsciously, she had been stroking her sensitive, engorged lips and clit until the slickness of her entrance made it easy for her fingers to slip inside of her. It was the trigger needed for her swirling pleasure to release. Muscles contracted, stiffening her body in its awkward position with small spasms occurring only from her hips.

Her initial cry had ebbed to mere gasps and mews as the spiking sensation slowly ended. Her hips jerked skyward a few times in subtle motions, and then she heaved a grateful sigh when she came back down to rest on her bed. Her chest rose and fell again and again. Carefully, she extracted her fingers from her fatigued quim, but she did not lift her hand away completely yet. Her other hand, however, was brought up to feel her perspiring brow. It was like she had a fever, so she felt it would be best to take a quick rinse before hunkering down again for the night.

Carefully, she picked herself out of her bed and scuttled out of her room with her head bowed; she acted like there was a hall of classmates lining the walls, watching her as she left. When she made it to the bathroom, she quickly discarded her sweaty clothes and hopped into the small bathtub. Cold water sprayed on her when she turned the nozzle, and though she initially yelped at the freezing temperature, she welcomed it, like an icepack on a fevered head.

She tried not to get her long, wavy hair wet; she just wanted to rinse of the sweat and other fluids. Her left hand was lifted into the spray and was cleansed with a soap bar. As she washed herself, being particularly bashful when she had to remove the showerhead from its holster to douse the stickiness running down her thighs, she thought back on days past, rewinding to her walk home with Ichigo and a little further back.

The talk with Mahana had been… enlightening. And Orihime couldn't help feeling that the toys mentioned – dildos and whatnot – might be something to look into.

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No school, but despite her anticipation, Orihime headed relatively late to the particular shop Mahana had told her about. Someone like Tatsuki or Ryou would've never given the naïve girl such information – least of all without any explanation as to why she would want to go there – but Mahana wasn't one to keep things secret. Orihime was a big girl, she reasoned, and if she wanted to explore her sexuality, who was Mahana to stand in her way?

Not exactly a favorable part of town, Orihime thought while trudging through the rubbish-littered streets. A typical trio of thugs lurked in an alleyway and watched her intently, muttering amongst themselves about the size of her bust. She was not afraid of them; her barrier powers aside, she was still a proficient karate fighter and kept in practice with Tatsuki from time to time. Fending off a gangster or two or three was a candy walk compared to fighting Hollows. Of course, she wasn't actually contemplating violence and smiled friendlily at them when they made eye contact, but it was fact that she had the ability to take them out.

It took a few turn-arounds, but Orihime finally came to a small shop with interesting novelties in the front window. A teddy bear! Orihime was unsure she came to the right place if they sold teddies. Could such things be sold alongside perverse items? What she was unaware of, of course, was the fact that the teddy's arms clasped together like handcuffs.

Timidly, Orihime pulled the somewhat-stubborn door open and slipped inside. It was a dimly-lit store, but not dark; Orihime could clearly see the elderly man at the counter as well as a round, glasses-wearing man peeking out at her from behind a row of toys. On one wall, she noted that there were rows of Mahana's dildo; she was quite embarrassed by what she witnessed.

Clearing her throat, brushing a tress of orange hair away from her reddened face, Orihime slowly padded around the store. She wasn't immediately banished, so she supposed that her being there was no bad thing; Mahana had told her as much. She still couldn't help feeling a bit of shame as she pondered the curious, phallic devices. Some were small – much smaller than Kurosaki-kun anyway – and others were large, large enough to make her doubt that a woman could even have pleasure with it!

As she looked around, she was unaware that the plump man – maybe two or three years older than her – was scurrying after her, watching her intently while his breathing elevated. His eyes examined her face – beautiful – her bust – large and bouncy! – her waist – pleasantly curvy – and her legs – hidden by her sundress, but still noteworthy! Huffing through his nostrils, the man felt himself swell in his black trousers. He was there to buy a blow-up doll, but upon seeing this vision of loveliness willfully intrude in a pervert's paradise, he'd other plans.

This particular shop was _very_ pervert-friendly, and with a little cash and a trip to the stalls in the dark back, there could be some intimacy shared through a hole in the wall. At once, the fat man went to the register and exchanged hushed instructions and money with the elderly shop owner. Nodding his understanding, the elder waved the excited four-eyes to the backroom, and then looked over to Orihime. No doubt she was lovely, the man considered. If he'd been fifty years younger, he would've approached her himself.

"Welcome to Hentai Toy Box," the elder said gently to Orihime when she wandered closer to him. She looked up and smiled. When it came to making new acquaintances, she was far bolder, and politely bid him a greeting. He had his fair share of young, female customers, so he didn't make a mention about her apparent age; there was one brown-haired girl – notably busty, but less modest about it – who came in from time to time. "I take it this is possibly your first visit to a shop like this?"

Orihime forced a giggle, though it was loud with apprehension. " _Um_ , I was just wandering around," she answered. "I…" She looked at the single device she had picked up that sparked her interest; a pink vibrator. She'd have to ask Mahana to know specifically what it was for because she considered that it might be a special massage-device to get guys in the mood. "I just wanted to get something special; something… a boy might enjoy."

The shopkeeper arched an eyebrow and looked down at her parcel. Most guy-gifts came in the form of handcuffs, lingerie, or something to provoke the penis. A vibrator…? The elder just shrugged. Kids today were up for anything, he guessed.

Orihime looked back at the products. So much to see, but she didn't want to spend too much time in here. She could get carried away and ponder everything she saw for hours! "I don't know what else I should look at," she confessed out loud.

Now _that_ was inviting, the old man thought with a grin. He was given the money, so he had to make an effort on his pride as a sex-toy shopkeeper! "Well, in the back booths," he began, gesturing to the vacant booth of two that were in the back of the store, "there are helpful videos that you can watch. Maybe some inspiration will come to you."

Orihime wasn't aware of what else would be waiting for her, but she nonetheless thanked him for his help and went to go see what the videos had to offer. She pushed open the curtain for the booth and went within. Sure enough, there was a video playing on a screen in the wall, and the movie playing shocked Orihime. It was a pornographic film; nothing elaborate, and there were censor blurs over the genitals, but the motions, nakedness, and sounds were enough to make her stunned and intrigued all at once.

Eyes wide, Orihime watched as the man pushed and pulled the lithe woman into his hips while her breasts floundered with the movement. The woman – middle-aged – made droning wails of pleasure, her face scrunched up in exhaustion. Tatsuki-chan looked much more glamorous when Kurosaki-kun took her…

Orihime would've sat down to watch to movie to its end were it not for the cock that caught her eye. She was so focused on the movie that she hadn't even noticed the hole that had been carved into the wall dividing this stall from the next. The penis pushed in all the way at a length of five inches. The bulbous head peered from an overlapping of skin and pumped out a thick, clear fluid that Orihime didn't recognize.

Logic from spying on Ichigo and Tatsuki told her that now was the time to put her mouth on it or hike up her dress, lower her panties, and find some position to mount the male appendage. On impulse, however, she backed away to examine it. Not as big as Kurosaki-kun's; his was thicker and a few inches longer. It still looked desirable to touch. That shouldn't be so bad, she mulled over while slowly extending her hand to grasp the eager appendage to familiarize herself with shape and texture.

In the end, however, contact was never made. Orihime had made up her mind that Kurosaki-kun's would be the first she'd ever touch. Therefore, she clasped her hands at her waist, bowed graciously to the offending prick, and said, "Thank you for the offer, but Kurosaki-kun's is better."

And then she was gone to purchase the vibrator and a few other knickknacks that she thought might be handy when 'seducing' Kurosaki-kun. She didn't hear the thud of the man's head against the wall or the pitiful, pining sob that followed.

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End file.
